When Yesterday Becomes Tomorrow
by The Pardo Girls
Summary: As Ranger and Stephanie adjust to married life, a drama—one that began years ago—slowly unfolds and threatens their newfound peace. This starts out about marriage, but changes midway into one of self-examination, particularly for Ranger. How will these unexpected events change each of them? Takes place shortly after "The Bat Cave is Forever." Cowritten by Jago-ji and Sonomom.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: This story begins with two stories, seemingly unrelated, that we will tell concurrently. Gradually, the stories will merge into a single tale, bringing both Ranger's and Stephanie's past into their married present. How they deal with it will determine the fate of their individual and collective happiness. This story's title is paraphrased from a Billy Ray Cyrus song. Main characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Not making any money from this._

 **CHAPTER 1**

 _ **Eighteen years ago in Newark, New Jersey**_

 _As she bustled around the kitchen, she was glad spring was finally here. Preparing her father's favorite breakfast, a cold spread of bread, cheese and Ibérico ham, didn't require her to turn on the oven, which helped to warm the small kitchen in the winter. The only hot thing was the bica, but the coffee maker didn't put out much heat. She set the tiny demitasse cups, one for her and one for her father, on the tray along with the small pitcher of milk and the sugar bowl._

 _Espresso was the one luxury her father refused to give up, no matter how hard the times were. She knew, for him, it was more than just a matter of taste, it was one of connection. Connection to his roots, his parents—long gone, but not forgotten. To her father, bica was essential Portuguese, especially when one's parents had run a coffeehouse in Lisbon._

 _"Dad!_ _Breakfast is ready. Get down here!" she shouted. She grinned as she heard his feet hit the floor above her. Minutes later, she heard the toilet flush and the water running. Two minutes for his shower, one for a shave and another two to get dressed. He'd rush in in five minutes, complaining that he'd be late to open up the shop. He was never late, and the café downstairs would open on time, as usual._

 _True to form, five minutes later, Tomas Silva rushed into his kitchen, leaned down and kissed his daughter on the cheek and started to pour the bica. His daughter lightly slapped his hand away._

 _"I'll do it. You sit down and eat," she scolded him._

 _As he folded his large frame onto a bench tucked between the small kitchen table and the wall, he instructed, "Just a splash of milk and cut the sugar in half." He patted his swelling paunch. "The doctor told me I had to lose ten pounds by Portugal Day."_

 _"Portugal Day! You couldn't just say 'by June 10th'?" she complained. "Anyone listening to you would think you still lived in Portugal."_

 _"The Ironbound is Portugal," he teased. "If you mention Newark, and especially the Ironbound District, to anyone in Portugal they know exactly where you are talking about. Newark might as well be called New Portugal." He gave his daughter a critical look. "You're aren't wearing that to school. Go change, Renie."_

 _Corrine looked down at her clothes. The jeans were a little tight and had some holes in places better left unexposed, and the sweater was cut a little low. But the Doc Martens fit well. She knew better than to argue with him. Nodding, she trudged upstairs._

 _Tom Silva sighed to himself as he sipped espresso. Raising a young daughter alone hadn't been easy and it was only getting harder. They'd weathered the first bra dilemma and the bloodbath fiasco, as Renie called it. As a man, he'd hated that trip to the drugstore to buy those first emergency feminine products. He was unbelievably relieved when she was old enough to buy them herself._

 _And she had grown up to become a beautiful young woman ... well, nearly, he mused. She was small for her age, but feisty. She was the spitting image of her mother, though Tom had learned to never compare Renie to her mother. As far as his daughter was concerned, her mother didn't exist. She was perfectly happy with just the two of them. Renie would always be his little girl, but he had to face the fact that she was nearly eighteen, and soon she would be going away to college. At least, if he had anything to say about it. But his nearly grown daughter was headstrong and rebellious. Once, they'd been inseparable, but now she seemed to be growing farther away and spending way too much time with that gang of ruffians. He shook his head and snorted in disgust. Maybe he'd have a little back alley talk with that Jax character who seemed to be the leader. Convince him to leave his daughter alone. He had big plans for Corrine, and they didn't include jail time, which was what that disreputable band of no-gooders was heading toward._

 _Twenty minutes later, as she rushed downstairs and through the café, her father shouted at her. "Hold up, Renie." With her lips pursed and her brows furrowed, she turned and waited for his inspection. He gave her the once-over and waved his hand in dismissal, and then smiling, called out, "Tenha um bom dia, querida." [Have a good day, sweetheart.]_

 _As Corrine left the café, she darted around the corner and into the alley. Scrunching down behind the dumpster, she removed her backpack and pulled out the pair of ripped jeans she'd been wearing earlier. When she left the alley, with her blonde hair teased up, her makeup reapplied, and her clothes too revealing, her look proudly proclaimed her to be one of the disenfranchised, a teenager on the edge. Her father certainly wouldn't approve, but what he didn't know, wouldn't hurt him, she mused._

 _It was nearly evening by the time Corrine returned home. She'd intended to change her clothes in the alley again before entering the café, but those plans died when she saw all the police cars parked at odd angles in front of her father's store. Her heartbeat quickened and a lump rose in her throat as she ran for the front door. A policeman caught her before she could open it._

 _"Whoa there, kid. You can't go in there. It's a crime scene," he told her, easily turning her slight frame away from the big plate glass window._

 _"But my father's in there. I have to see my father!" she cried._

 _"Is your father Tomas Silva?" he asked._

 _She nodded, struggling to break his hold on her shoulders and trying to see around him._

 _"I'm sorry to inform you, but your father ... your father is dead. We think he was shot during a robbery. Neighbors said they saw some gang members leaving the diner. Is there someone we can call? Your mother, a family member?"_

 _She looked up at him, not comprehending at first. The cop repeated, "Is there someone, an adult, we can call for you?"_

 _She shook her head. "I want to see my father," she demanded, twisting and turning under the cop's firm grip. "Let me see him ... please," she almost whispered the last word._

 _"I'm really sorry, miss. I can't let you in there. C'mon over here and sit down," he said, trying to lead her over to his patrol car._

 _Corrine struggled even harder and, in desperation, kicked the officer in the shins. He let go and she raced to the front door, just as two men in dark jumpsuits pushed a gurney through the door. The gurney was covered with a large bulging black body bag._

 _Corrine took a step back and, with a hand over her mouth, let out a single sob._

 **Present Day Trenton, New Jersey**

Cool gray eyes watched as they exited the bakery and walked the short distance to the sports car. Stephanie looked good, even better than she used to. She was holding a box carefully level in front of her. Doughnuts, no doubt. She'd always had a thing for doughnuts. There'd been a man before him, but the guy with her wasn't from her past. This guy was obviously her future.

The future raised his head suddenly and looked in his direction. He flattened himself against the wall, mostly certain that his position was hidden. It wouldn't do to be seen yet. The element of surprise was going to be important. He wanted to catch her unaware, with her defenses down. She had to be alone. That was crucial to the success of his plan, so he'd been watching and waiting.

She left the big house, mansion really, every morning to go to the building on Haywood Street, but never at the same time. And not usually alone. Time was running out. He needed to make his move soon.

…..

Ranger watched the partially hidden figure in the side mirror as Stephanie balanced the box on her knees and buckled her seat belt. He reached over and lifted the box off her lap and held it, resting one end on the dash. He wouldn't have taken the Boxster if he'd known about her plan to buy Tasty Pastry doughnuts.

"I need to call Tank," he told her. "There's something I forgot to tell him about staffing. Would you run back in and get me a bottle of water while I call him, and then we can be back on the road?"

"Sure, but if you don't want me to hear, I can just stick my fingers in my ears."

"Babe."

She smiled at him, unhooked her seat belt and slipped out of the car.

Ranger didn't move his head, but his eyes once again focused on the mirror. He picked up his phone and made the call.

"He's watching her from the Tasty Pastry. This was an unscheduled stop, so he must be following us, but I didn't pick up a tail."

"You think he's watching her and not you, or both of you?" Tank asked.

"He's watching her." The man's attention had been focused on Stephanie as she reentered the shop.

"I'm less than five minutes away. I'll get him."

"Okay," Ranger said, ending the call. He looked at his watch and started the countdown. Stephanie got back in the car at forty-eight seconds. He waited until she handed him the water and buckled in before he unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. One minute twenty seconds. He took his time placing the doughnut box back on her lap, covertly looking in the mirror and checking his watch. He turned the key in the ignition, adjusted the rearview mirror, slightly. Three minutes fifteen seconds. He saw a black SUV turn the corner a block down. With a satisfied sigh, he put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.

"What are you not telling me, Ranger?" Stephanie asked.

"Babe?"

"Don't Babe me. I know you're up to something."

"I'm not up to anything. Why are you bringing Tasty Pastry doughnuts to Sunday dinner with my family?" he asked in an attempt to change the subject. He didn't know who was watching Stephanie or why, but they'd know shortly, as soon as Tank got the information out of the stalker.

"I've told your mother these are the best doughnuts in Jersey," she said. "Your mom says no place is better than the bakery down the road from their house. We are going to have a doughnut taste-testing today and settle the matter. She's getting a dozen from her favorite bakery."

"Before lunch?" Ranger asked with a raised eyebrow. He didn't see the eye roll, but he knew it had happened.

"For _dessert_!" she responded.

His phone rang. He bypassed the bluetooth and held it to his ear.

"Yo."

"Lost him," Tank said. "He was on a bike, a Harley Low Rider. I got a partial plate, and he didn't make me, so I don't think I scared him off."

"Keep me posted," Ranger said. He disconnected the call and tossed his phone into the console.

"Who was that?" Stephanie asked.

"Tank."

"Bad news?"

"Maybe." He could sense her irritation. She didn't like it when things were kept from her. He'd noticed the man across the road from their driveway two days ago. If he'd been in the open it might not have seemed odd, but he was casually camouflaged. Enough so that the untrained eye might have missed him, but Ranger's eye wasn't untrained.

Then, a man had been walking down the street as they left RangeMan last evening, and he'd stopped to watch their car roll by. Ranger didn't get a good look, either time, but he was betting it was the same man. Today, he'd seen the man more clearly, and he'd watched him watch Stephanie as she walked into the Tasty Pastry to get the bottle of water. He wasn't going to say anything that might upset her. They'd been through a lot lately and they deserved some quiet time to adjust to life as a married couple. Whoever this guy was, they'd get him and get the story behind his amateurish stalking.

…..

"I can't believe it was a tie," Stephanie said as they pulled out of his parents' driveway.

"There's a lot I can't believe about today," Ranger responded. "Like how you got my mother to eat five doughnuts after a full meal."

"We _tasted_ them," Stephanie said. "Just like a wine tasting. You don't drink the whole glass, so we didn't eat the whole doughnut. We just sampled them." They were quiet for a while as he navigated the streets of his old neighborhood. Stephanie cast a sideways glance at him. He was irritated, she thought, and in typical Ranger fashion, instead of talking it out he just reverted into his zone.

When they were on the highway she decided to broach the subject of his discontent. "I'm sorry if my eating doughnuts with your mother upset you."

Silence.

"You're upset, right?"

Silence.

"Ranger!"

"I'm not upset."

"It seems like you are," she said. "I won't take any more doughnuts to your mother's house."

"I'm not upset. At least not about the doughnuts," he amended. "It's just that ... Babe! Whatever possessed you to ask my mom to see my baby pictures?"

"You're upset about _that_?" Her voice rose with incredulity. "That I wanted to see you as a baby, and as a child?"

"No, I'm not upset about that, but do you know what message you sent to my mother. She'll be expecting the announcement of a forthcoming grandchild. Is that what you want?"

"Uh, no," Stephanie said, her eyes widening. Her stomach did a little flip-flop, and she had the thought that even "tasting" five doughnuts after a full meal may have been unwise. "Do you think she thinks we're trying to have a baby?" she asked.

"I do." Ranger exited the interstate and made a smooth transition onto the frontage road before he turned to her. "Is that what you want?"

They had never discussed children in a specific way, she realized. She thought she might want a child … someday. Ranger had promised her the Bat Cave … someday, and that time had come. She was happy. She wasn't ready to take the next step though, and to be honest, she wasn't sure she'd ever be ready.

"Is it what you want?" she asked.

"I have a child," he replied enigmatically.

"Speaking of Julie," Stephanie said, "I'd like to redecorate one of the guest bedrooms for her when she comes for the summer. Something a little more age-appropriate. Is that okay?"

"You can redecorate to your heart's content. I know Julie would appreciate a room just for her."

"Good. And I guess I'd better tell your mother we're not trying to get pregnant," she said.

"No!"

"So, we _are_ trying to get pregnant?" she asked, confused by his answer.

"No!" Ranger said. "I think the less you tell my mother, or your mother for that matter, about our private lives, the better."

"We've never really talked about it," she said.

"We haven't, Babe," he said. His voice sounded more normal and less stressed, and she found herself relaxing. "We will talk about it though and whatever we decide, it will be a mutual decision. But not yet. This 'two of us' is still new. I want to enjoy it for a while before we consider the future."

She warmed at his words. "I want to enjoy us, too," she said. She reached out and ran her hand up his thigh. One of his hands came off the steering wheel and captured hers, stopping its upward progress.

"Wait 'til we get home, Babe, and I'll focus my full attention on your enjoyment."

She left her hand curled inside his and smiled in anticipation.

Later, when she was wrapped in his arms, both of them sated from what had turned out to be a brief but intense and intensely satisfying session of lovemaking, she pulled his face toward hers.

"Ranger, I have a question."

"Hmm?"

"When I was looking at the photo albums, I noticed your mother only showed me pictures of you until you started high school. She had pictures of everyone else in the family all the way through high school, but not you."

"That's because I left home to live with my grandmother. In Miami. My mother wouldn't have pictures of me from that time, unless my grandmother sent her some."

"I knew you went to Miami, but I didn't know you were so young. That's sad that you left home so early," she said.

"It's not. It probably saved my life. I was headed down a bad road, and my abuela put me back on a straight and narrow path."

"How old were you when you moved to Miami?" she asked.

"Fifteen."

"What kind of trouble were you in?"

"I left before I got in any real trouble," he said. "But I was running with a bad crowd. I'd started carrying a knife, and I stole a handgun from one of my parents' neighbors. I got caught and that was another factor in my parents' decision to send me to Miami."

Steph shook her head. "When I was fifteen I used to climb out of my bedroom window and shinny down the drain pipe to meet Mary Lou and hang out. I thought I was living on the edge. You were stealing weapons."

"Yeah," Ranger said. "I did a lot of things that were unwise when I was fifteen. It was bad enough when I stole the gun, but if my mother had known I'd tried to seduce the twenty-six-year-old wife of the gun owner, she might have permanently locked me in my room instead of sending me to my grandmother's."

She didn't know why that surprised her. The confidence Ranger exuded as an adult had apparently been part of his youthful persona as well. "You were brave, trying to lose your virginity to a twenty-six-year-old."

"I wasn't a virgin," Ranger said. "And I'd have been successful if her husband hadn't come home early. When she opened the nightstand drawer to pull out a condom, I saw the handgun. We heard the door open and she said, 'My husband will kill you if he finds you here.' So I grabbed the gun and jumped out of an upstairs window—there was no drain pipe for me to shinny down. She ratted me out to save herself. Told her old man that she caught me stealing the gun."

Stephanie pulled out of his arms and propped herself on her elbow, unmindful of the sheet that dropped away and exposed her breasts to Ranger. "So you stole a gun to keep from getting shot while you were trying to boink your twenty-six-year-old neighbor, who was not the first woman you'd been with?" she asked in astonishment. "How old were you when you lost your virginity? Fourteen?" When he didn't answer she guessed again. "Thirteen?"

"No. I was fifteen," he said. "It happened with someone I met at school. She was seventeen and kind of a loner like me. We were … compatible. But when I saw an opportunity to expand my knowledge with the neighbor's wife, I went for it. It didn't turn out so well though. And it wasn't too long after that that my parents made the decision to send me to Miami."

"Should I be worried that I'm not older than you?" she asked. "First, it was a seventeen-year-old, then the twenty-six-year-old, and then … Grace."

"I've given up on older women," Ranger said. He leaned into her and found a nipple with his tongue. He gave it his full attention for a few moments, and then reached to pull his wife on top of him. "I need a woman with stamina. Do you think you fit the bill?"

"I think I do," she said, smiling. "Are you sure your stamina can rise to match mine?" He pulled her hand lower and her fingers wrapped around the hard length of him. "I see it can!" she exclaimed. And they didn't talk about doughnuts or virginity anymore that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

 ** _Eighteen years ago in Newark_**

 _All she could see from the backseat of the compact car was a narrow street with wide sidewalks fronting two and three-story clapboard and brick buildings. And no graffiti. What's a neighborhood without graffiti, Corrine grumbled._

 _Mrs. Palmeira, her Family Services caseworker, twisted around to look at Corrine and said, "Looks like a nice neighborhood. I think you'll be very happy here."_

 _"Fat chance," Corrine grumbled._

 _"Your mother is excited to have you home again..."_

 _"This is not my home!" Corrine blurted. "And she's not my mother." Corrine shrugged at the lie and stared out the window. "I don't need a mother," she mumbled._

 _"We've talked about this, Corrine. You are still a minor and you need adult supervision. And your mother and her husband are more than happy to have you come live with them," the caseworker explained._

 _"She wasn't happy with me when I was born. What makes it different now?"_

 _"Your mother was very young when she had you. She knew she didn't have the resources to take care of you, but your father did. You had a good life with your father, didn't you?"_

 _Corrine glared at her, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. "My father is...was the best."_

 _"And now, your mother is ready to care for you. Chet, her husband—your stepfather—is also 100% behind your moving in with them. Give them a chance, Corrine. I think they'll surprise you, if you let them."_

 _Corrine was silent._

 _Mrs. Palmeira got out of the car and opened the trunk, removing the two suitcases filled with everything Corrine owned. She waited for Corrine at the curb._

 _Corrine had been here before, once. Once had been enough. Corrine had had to live here for two weeks several summers ago while her father made an emergency trip to Portugal to attend the funeral of his last living relative. They didn't have enough money for her to go with him._

 _Those two weeks had been the worst two of her short life, Corrine mused. She barely knew her mother, having only seen her a handful of times. And she'd been just fine without her, living with her father. The two of them made the perfect family. Corrine fought back the tears._

 _She looked again at the two-story clapboard house. The woman who lived here might be her biological mother, but she would never be her mother. And then there was the husband and their son. Chase, her half-brother. He was four years younger than she was, and he was a royal pain in the ass._

 _And now, she was back here, to live. She kicked the back of the seat in front of her while slamming her fist against the car door. Mrs. Palmeira tapped on the window and motioned her to come outside. With a deep sigh, Corrine opened her door and stepped over to the sidewalk._

 _Mrs. Palmeira said, "I know this is a hard time for you. You're still grieving and that's natural. But life goes on. And this is your new home."_

 _Corrine was silent._

 _The door of the home in front of them opened and a slightly built, blonde-haired woman stepped out onto the stoop. With a tentative smile, she called out, "Hello, Corrine, Mrs. Palmeira."_

 _Mrs. Palmeira guided Corrine up the steps. "It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Fields."_

 _"Please, call me Patty," she said, extending her hand._

 _As they shook hands, Mrs. Palmeira replied, "All right, Patty. Corrine has two suitcases..." she gestured toward the sidewalk._

 _Corrine's mother gave a nervous laugh and told both of them, "Don't worry. Chase will bring them in. Please, come inside." She stepped back. As Corrine moved forward, her mother reached out and embraced her. Corrine stiffened, and her mother quickly released her. Corrine stepped over the threshold and continued until the hall opened into the living room. She was relieved it was empty. She didn't think she could stomach having to make small talk with anyone else. The two women pushed in behind her, with Corrine's mother inviting them to sit._

 _There was an awkward silence as the three women glanced at each other and then around the small room. Mrs. Palmeira broke the ice. "I've transferred Corrine's school records from the school she's been attending to Eastside High School. She should be able to start there on Monday and not miss a day. Here is a copy of everything you will need." She handed a folder to Corrine's mother._

 _"Thank you," Patty said, laying the folder on the coffee table. She turned to Corrine. "The school bus goes right by the house every morning. I know it's hard starting over at a new school, but I'm sure you'll make lots of new friends. Eastside is a good high school. Chase is eager to start there next year. "_

 _Corrine sat in the chair, arms crossed over her chest, saying nothing._

 _"Your mother has prepared a room for you, Corrine, so you will have some privacy," Mrs. Palmeira told her. "I know you were concerned about that." She looked over at Patty._

 _"That's right," Patty agreed. "It was my old sewing room, but I rarely sew anymore, now that Chase is in to designer label t-shirts and jeans. Do kids wear anything else, nowadays?" Again, she laughed nervously and fidgeted with her hands. "Would you like to see your room?"_

 _She stood and the other two stood with her. They went up the stairs and as they passed a closed door, Patty knocked on it and said, loudly, "Chase, Corrine is here. Her suitcases are out on the sidewalk. Would you bring them up to her room, please." When there was no answer, she opened the door. There was a boy sitting at a desk with a computer screen facing him. He was playing a war game._

 _"Chase, I said Corrine is here. I want you to bring her suitcases up to her room. They're on the sidewalk. Do it now, baby."_

 _The boy twisted around in his chair and glared at the women. His mother reiterated, "The suitcases? Now."_

 _With a sullen look, Chase stood up and moved toward them. He looked to be thirteen years old, about 5'2", with a slight build, gray eyes and sandy-colored hair._

 _His mother told him, "Say hello to Corrine, Chase." The two half-siblings stared at each other, neither spoke. Chase turned sideways so he wouldn't touch them and moved down the hall toward the stairs. His mother looked apologetically at the other two. "Boys!" she sighed. "He's in that bored pre-teen stage. It's hard to get him to do anything." She looked at Corrine. "Please don't take it personally. He ignores everybody."_

 _The three women moved down the hall to another bedroom. Patty opened the door and Corrine stuck her head in. The room was long and narrow and held a twin bed, a dresser, a small desk and a chair. There wasn't room for anything else._

 _"You can decorate it anyway you want. Hang posters, pictures. And there's a corkboard behind the desk," Patty told her. Chase came stomping up the stairs, a suitcase in each hand. He dropped them unceremoniously at Corrine's feet and stalked back to his room, slamming the door shut._

 _"Do you need any help unpacking?" Patty asked her._

 _Corrine shook her head and lugged the first suitcase into her new room. When she bent to retrieve the second suitcase, Mrs. Palmeira placed a hand on her shoulder and asked, in Portuguese, "Tudo bem?" [Everything good?]_

 _Corrine nodded and proceeded to open her suitcases. Patty stepped out and motioned to the caseworker. "Well, we'll leave you alone to get settled. And Corrine...I'm so sorry about your dad. The police said they had some suspects, but they all had alibis. I hope they catch the people who did this."_

 _Corrine stared at Patty, her eyes drilling into her mother, willing her to shut up. Patty dropped her gaze, telling Corrine, "If you need anything, please ask. We want you to feel at home here. Chet will be home from work around six. We're having spaghetti for dinner. I hope that's all right with you?"_

 _Corrine didn't say anything._

 _Once Corrine was alone, she shut and locked the door, thankful she had that option. She sat down on the bed and pulled a framed picture from the open suitcase. Tears slowly rolled down her cheeks as she stared at the photograph of her father with his arm around her._

 **Present Day Trenton**

Stephanie stretched lazily as she watched her husband add the finishing touches to his ensemble. She wondered if he ever got tired of wearing all black. She would get tired of it. She'd seen him in other clothes from time to time, the night he'd proposed for example. He'd looked good in beige, just as he looked good in black. It didn't matter what he wore, he still projected the same air of leadership and power. Maybe that's why he dressed like his men. He didn't need the word _boss_ written in yellow letters across his black shirt. He exuded authority.

"Do you ever get tired of wearing black?" she asked.

Ranger turned from the dresser where he picked up his money clip and slid it into his pocket. "No. Why?"

"I was just wondering. Everyone at RangeMan dresses alike and I get that, and I've been wearing black, too. But I was thinking it might be fun if I dressed a little differently."

"Differently, like Lula?" Ranger asked, his mouth turning up slightly at the corners.

Stephanie grabbed his pillow and threw it at him. He easily deflected it. "Not like Lula," she said. "Maybe more colorful than all black, but less, uh, colorful than Lula."

"You're the Customer Relations manager," Ranger told her. "You can dress whatever way you think is best. The security operatives must wear the RangeMan uniform and, in the beginning, when we had a much smaller and less specialized workforce it made sense for us all to wear black. There's not a rule about your uniform. Your position is new and it will grow as RangeMan does."

"Good, then I'm going shopping for a business wardrobe."

"Today?" Ranger asked.

"I hadn't really planned on it, but I might, if that's okay with you. I was hoping to work from your office in the house today, instead of going in with you." Ranger walked to the bed, still holding the pillow she'd attempted to assault him with. He dropped it next to her and bent to kiss her, lingering a little. She wrapped her arms around him and started to pull him onto the bed but he resisted.

"Rain check, Babe. I need to get into the office a little early today. As far as shopping and working from home, you don't have to ask my permission. RangeMan is your company, too, and you're a manager. You make your own decisions. I was just wondering about your schedule for the day," he said.

"Okay," she responded. "I'll tell you what I've got planned. I've been meaning to talk to you about it, but ... well … it can wait. You said you needed to get to the office early."

He looked at her and she blushed. He must have been able to sense that what she had to say was uncomfortable for her, because he came and sat on the edge of the bed, his preparations to leave momentarily forgotten.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing. I mean, it can wait."

"What?" he said again. She sighed and gave up the thought of hiding it from him. He'd find out. He'd said it was nothing to be ashamed of, in any case.

"Well, about my schedule. I don't have any client meetings scheduled today, but I have some correspondence to attend to. I thought I'd do that this afternoon. This morning, I do have an appointment though. It's a, well, sort of a doctor's appointment." She had his full attention.

"Are you ill?" he asked. He took the hand that was nervously pushing her curls off her forehead and held it in his own. "Babe?"

"No," she said on an exhale. "I'm not sick. I'm seeing Dr. Fincher, Marian Fincher." She felt herself blushing again. This was ridiculous. This man was her husband. She should be able to tell him anything, but this was hard to talk about.

"Ahh, I see," Ranger said. "The psychologist. This is about Terry Gilman."

"Well, yes … it is. Sometimes, I'm just so glad that's all over with, and then … sometimes, I feel like I'm still in the middle of it. I wake up and it's as if I was still in that room, or if you were still missing, and then I remember that I killed her and…"

Ranger wrapped her tenderly in his arms. "It's a good thing that you're seeing Marian. She can help you. I'm certain of it. Sometimes, just having an objective listener is enough. She's helped me on several occasions."

She wanted to ask him about it, but thought maybe the time wasn't right. And he was in a hurry to leave. "Ranger, you'd better go. You said you had to be in the office early, and I'm making you late."

"My work will wait. I was going in early to call Rachel before she left for work. If I don't get her this morning I can call her tonight, or even tomorrow. Go see Dr. Fincher, then go have lunch with Connie or Lula. If you go shopping, just don't take Lula's fashion advice."

"That's not nice," Stephanie chided him. "Lula has her own sense of style, but I don't think she'd try to push it on me. She helped pick my wedding dress, after all."

"That's true," he said. "Take Lula, but stay away from poison green spandex." She picked up the pillow again but before she could swing it, he stopped her with another kiss.

When they broke apart, she remembered what he'd said. "You're calling Rachel? There's not a problem with Julie coming is there? I'm really looking forward to having her with us."

"Not a problem with Julie spending the summer with us. In fact, I think Rachel's looking forward to having her come here. Apparently, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. My parents sent me to Miami to get me straightened out, and Rachel wants to send Julie away from Miami for the same reason."

Stephanie gasped. "She's in a gang? She's so young!"

"No," Ranger said. "She's not in a gang. She's thirteen and feeling the need to define herself. She's very smart, per her mother, and she's easily bored. She's pushing the boundaries a bit, rebelling against authority. I think Rachel needs a little break and is hoping I can be a good influence on Julie this summer." Stephanie thought she detected a slight eye roll from Ranger before he continued, "I don't know the first thing about parenting a teenager. Do you?"

"No, but Julie idolizes you. If you're honest with her and treat her like a young adult instead of a kid, things will probably be fine."

He kissed her again. "I'm glad we're together on this, Babe. Julie may idolize me, but she has a girl-crush on you. I wouldn't have offered to take her for the summer if I didn't have you to help."

"You'd better go while you can, Ranger," Stephanie told him, her hand lingering on his abs. "I know you have things to do, but one more kiss and I'm going to rearrange your priorities."

"All right, but I meant it when I said, rain check," Ranger gave her that sexy look of his. "I'll be home early—ready, willing and _very_ able—so don't leave your correspondence too late."

Ranger pulled out of the driveway a few minutes later, his eyes focused on the spot where he'd seen the man previously. His need to call Rachel was momentarily forgotten. He had a stalker to catch. He didn't tell Stephanie, because she was still dealing with the last attempt on her life. It was impossible to tell her after she'd so grudgingly told him about her appointment with Dr. Fincher. This situation was going to be over before it began. He was cancelling his day. He and Tank would follow Stephanie until the man made another mistake. And then he'd be theirs!

…

"Been a while since you and I ate here at Pino's," Lula commented. "I'm glad you called. I can use a break from this bounty huntin' job. It's hard work. This week, RangeMan sent me Vince, and he ain't got no sense of humor."

"I think Vince is a nice guy with a perfectly normal sense of humor," Stephanie countered.

"Nah, he's got something up his ass. He spends more time saying 'No shooting' than you ever did. An' I'm a good shot. I been practicing."

"Cal?" Stephanie asked.

"Yeah, Cal helped me out quite a bit, but we ain't seein' much of one another these days."

Lula didn't offer any more information and that piqued Stephanie's curiosity. "Are you seeing someone else? What about Vince?" she asked.

"Vince is engaged. Besides, he ain't my type," Lula said.

"What happened to Cal?"

"Nothin' happened to Cal. He's a real nice guy, but he's just not the guy for me. Now that I see you and Ranger all in love, I figure I should hold out for my Mister Right. You know, instead of just Mr. Right Now. And speaking of Mr. Wrong, look who's here!" Lula pointed her head at the space behind Stephanie, and she turned to look.

Joe Morelli walked up to the table and nodded at Lula, and then turned his attention toward Stephanie. "How are you doing, Cupcake?"

She ignored the endearment, and decided to take the higher road. "I'm fine. I heard from my grandma, who heard from your grandma, that congratulations are in order."

"Wow!" Joe said. "The Burg grapevine strikes again. We just found out a few days ago. I knocked Alison up on our honeymoon. I'm finally going to be a father. What about you, Stephanie? You and Ranger in the family way?"

"I'm sure the Burg grapevine will let you know when we have news, Joe. It was nice seeing you."

Morelli laughed. "I can tell when I'm being dismissed. It was nice seeing you, too. Really." He turned and walked over to the front counter.

"Hmph," Lula grunted after he was out of earshot. "You made a lucky escape there. Officer Hottie still looks good, but I don't think his heart's in the right place. Still, I can see how he'd be real attractive to some women."

"He was pretty attractive to me for a long time," Stephanie acknowledged.

"That's right," Lula said. "He robbed you of your virginity at the doughnut shop. Maybe that's why you got a thing for doughnuts. It's psychologic. You regret that you done the deed with Morelli, and you're trying to get your virtue back by eatin' Boston Crèmes."

That made Stephanie remember her morning session with Dr. Fincher, and she thought for a moment about discussing it with Lula, but decided against it. She thought the psychologist might be able to help her, and she'd made another appointment.

"Psychological," she told Lula. "The word is psychological. And losing my virginity in the Tasty Pastry has nothing to do with my craving doughnuts. I don't think." She made a mental note to ask Dr. Fincher.

"You probably wish you'd have lost your virginity with Ranger. Then you'd just be cravin' all that rabbit food he eats."

"I'd have been pretty young if I'd lost my virginity with Ranger," Stephanie replied. "He just told me last night it happened when he was only fifteen."

"Hunh! That ain't so young. It ain't like bein' eleven. I'm hungry. Let's order and get out of here so we can use Ranger's credit card. You got his credit card, right?"

"I do." Stephanie noticed the abrupt change of subject, but she didn't comment. They ordered meatball subs and began talking about the afternoon shopping agenda. First, the shoe department, because every good outfit starts with the shoes.

They walked out of Pino's and toward Lula's Firebird, intent on getting to the mall. The man casually leaning against the wall of the building straightened and reached a hand out as they passed by. He swung Stephanie around to face him. Her eyes widened as she came face to face with the man.

"Long time, no see, Stephanie," he said.


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: There seems to be a fanfiction programming glitch in notifying readers of new chapters. FYI: We will be posting updates every MWF, so please check back on those days for new chapters._

 **CHAPTER 3**

 _ **Eighteen years ago in Newark**_

 _Corrine thought that having to live with her mother was torture, but her first day at Eastside High School surpassed her idea of torture. She didn't know anyone at the school, and her fellow students made it clear they had no interest in getting to know her. She saw the usual cliques, the bullying, the put down of anyone different. And, she was different, and proud of it._

 _At her mother's house, she had no interest in interacting with its three residents, so she stayed in her room most of the time. But at school, she'd been hoping for ... hell, she'd been hoping to make a friend, just one friend. That notion was disabused after one of the school's "royalty" knocked her books out of her arms and other students kicked them down the hall, laughing as they watched her struggle to pick them all back up. The day just got worse after that._

 _For the next few weeks, Corrine tried to be as invisible as possible. Her junior year had only a few weeks left in it and then summer break would begin, and she wouldn't have to deal with any of this torture for three whole months. She'd just have her mother, Chet and Chase to avoid. She was counting down the days until she graduated next year and was on her own._

 _Her worst class was English, not because of the subject matter but because of the other students. Corrine rarely spoke in class, but even when she was silent, other students would single her out and make fun of her. So, she frequently skipped that class and waited it out in one of the lesser-used restrooms. When the restrooms were occupied, she'd make her way to the gym and burrow under the bleachers._

 _One day, as she slipped under the myriad of metal rails, she realized she wasn't the only one in hiding. There was someone hunched up next to the back wall, half-blocked by a metal column. As she got closer, she realized it was a boy she'd seen hanging out with the Cuban youth gang. They were the wannabe bad boys aiming for membership in the real Cuban gang. All Newark high schools had these youth gangs. Hell, even the elementary schools had them. She'd belonged to the Portuguese version at her old school._

 _She'd been avoiding Eastside's Portuguese gang. Why? She wasn't sure. Other than to honor her father's wishes. He'd hated that she hung around with Jax and his bunch of lowlifes. Now that her dad was gone, she realized how much she wanted him to be proud of her, not to disappoint him. But she was so alone, and she was so effing tired of it._

 _Stepping over the bleacher supports, she made her way over to the lone boy. He watched as she approached. He looked to be about her age, maybe a year or two younger. He wasn't much bigger than she was. She liked his skin tone: not too dark and not too light. It was just right. Like the color of the morning bica her father had always made for her, after he added a splash of milk. The boy's deep brown eyes were framed with long black lashes any girl would kill for, and his dark hair was tied back with a leather thong. He wore the standard uniform of ratty jeans, a dark t-shirt and a pair of work boots. And, she smiled to herself, he was freakin' good-looking. She dropped down next to him._

 _Neither said anything for a while. They just watched from under the bleachers as the boys' basketball team practiced drills. Finally, without turning around, Corrine said, "My name's Wren." She hated the name Corrine because that's what her mother called her, and she couldn't bear to have anyone but her father call her Renie. She thought Ren, or even better, Wren, would be her new, independent identity, she decided._

 _"I'm Carlos," the boy said. "You're new, aren't you?"_

 _"Yeah. I used to live in North Ironbound. My father ran a café just off Ferry Street."_

 _Carlos nodded, but still didn't look at her. "Prime real estate. Why'd you move?"_

 _All she could get out was, "Bad times."_

 _"Oh, you lost the café?"_

 _Corrine shook her head. "Lost my father." Despite her best efforts, there was a slight quaver to her voice._

 _Carlos swung his head to look at her. "¡Lo mama!" he muttered, and then clarified, "That sucks."_

 _She nodded. "It sucks big time."_

 _They were both quiet again, until Carlos asked, "I'm blowing off algebra. What are you ditching?"_

 _"English."_

 _The bell rang, signaling a class change._

 _"Tomorrow?" He glanced at her again._

 _She smiled at him and nodded. "Tomorrow."_

 **Present Day Trenton**

The next thing Stephanie knew, the man was flying through the air, with Ranger and Tank piling on top of him. In seconds, they had the man handcuffed, pulled upright and had thrust him, face first, roughly against the brick wall.

"Stop!" Stephanie yelled, grabbing Ranger by the arm and trying to pull him off the man. "Back off."

Ranger cut his eyes to her, the question unspoken.

"I know him," she stated. "We're friends." She let her eyes slide from Ranger to the man he was tightly holding on to. The man was a little taller than Ranger, but much leaner. His eyes were gray and his light brown hair was wavy and long enough to brush his shoulders. He hasn't changed much, Steph thought. He was still a looker.

"We were good friends, several years ago," she explained. There was a muffled sound coming from the man, but his face was mashed sideways against the wall and the words weren't clear.

"Friends," Ranger said, his hands still gripping the man's upper arms, his eyes riveted to Steph's. His inflection made the word sound like a statement, but to Steph, it was a question, loud and clear.

"We used to ... um ... see each other, back when I was working for E.E. Martin," she explained.

"See each other," Ranger repeated, his voice still monotone.

"Yes," she replied testily. "We were lovers. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Ranger's face was no longer blank. His eyes widened for an instant before narrowing and turning cold.

"Well, well, well. Another lover," Joe Morelli chuckled, as he walked up behind Ranger and Stephanie. "You're full of surprises, Cupcake." He turned his attention to Ranger. "Is this man FTA, or do you handcuff and rough up all of Stephanie's old lovers?"

Ranger glared at Morelli, but just for a moment. He turned the cuffed man around and shoved him back up against the wall. The look in Ranger's eyes was assessing, and murderous. Lesser men had pissed themselves under such intense scrutiny. The man stood calmly and let Ranger study him. Then the man focused on Stephanie.

"Curls, this might be a good time to tell your bulldog to release me," the man said. "The cuffs are cutting off my circulation."

Morelli stepped in closer. "If this man has committed a crime, I'll take over." He reached in front of Ranger, but was jerked back by Tank. "Hey," he cried, puffing up. And then Steph stuck two fingers in her mouth and blew a piercing whistle.

"Stop it ... all of you," she shouted. "Tank, let Joe go. Joe, back off. And Ranger, uncuff Chase."

No one moved at first. Steph stamped her foot. "Now!" she commanded.

Tank stepped back from Joe, who also stepped back. Ranger didn't move.

"Chase is a friend of mine, Ranger. He's not going to hurt me. I don't know why you and Tank attacked him, but take those handcuffs off of him, now." She glared at Ranger. He glared back, but, slowly, he dropped his hands away from Chase. "The cuffs," Steph gestured. He didn't respond immediately, but under Steph's intense stare, he finally uncuffed Chase. He did not back away.

"Well, that was fun," Chase said, rubbing his wrists. He held out his hand to Ranger. "Chase Fields."

When Ranger still didn't move, Steph inserted herself between the two men and smiled up at Chase. "It's been a while, Chase. It's good to see you. I only wish it was under better circumstances." She turned and gave Ranger a hard stare. Then she linked her arm with Chase's and gently pulled him away from Ranger. "What are you doing here in Trenton?"

"I came to see you," he told her, as she led him away from the crowd that had gathered in all the excitement.

"Me?" she cried. "Why? We haven't seen each other in years. Are you still living in Newark?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm still in Newark, still running the bike shop. Except the bike shop has grown. I've opened stores in several cities in Jersey and Pennsylvania."

"That's cool!" she replied. "I always knew you'd do well."

From close behind them, Ranger cleared his throat. Steph stopped, and she and Chase turned to face Ranger. "Let's do this the right way this time," she announced. "Ranger, this is an old friend of mine, Chase Fields. Chase, this is my husband, Ranger, um, Carlos Mañoso." Chase stuck out his hand again, and this time Ranger took it. They shook hands briefly before Ranger started his interrogation.

"Why were you stalking my wife?" he demanded.

Steph frowned and her eyes ping-ponged between the two men. "Stalking? Were you stalking me, Chase? And you," she swung on Ranger, "you knew about this? And you didn't tell me?"

Chase held up his hand in a "slow down" gesture. "I wasn't stalking you, Curls, but I didn't have your number. I wanted to talk with you, and I wanted to catch you alone. I was hoping we could talk in private, without a crowd." He glanced around at all the people milling in the parking lot, many still hoping for some action.

"Then let's go someplace quieter." She glanced over at Ranger. "The house?" she asked.

Ranger shook his head and replied, "RangeMan."

Lula, wisely, had been hanging back when all the commotion started, but now she piped up. "We can take my Firebird. It's just over there," she pointed. Morelli had sidled up behind them, along with Tank, who loomed over everyone.

Ranger immediately took charge. "Lula, the shopping trip is cancelled. Morelli," he started, "I don't know why you're here, go away. Tank, get the SUV and we'll meet you at the curb." He pulled Stephanie to his side and indicated to Chase to follow him.

...

When they stepped off the elevator on the fifth floor of the RangeMan offices, Ranger turned to Tank. "Take Mr. Fields to my office. We'll be there in a minute."

Chase spoke up. "I was hoping for a private meeting with Curls, if you don't mind."

"I do mind," Ranger challenged.

Stephanie interceded. "Tank, please show Chase to the conference room. Chase, would you like something to drink? Water, coffee, a soda?" Chase shook his head. She looked pointedly at Tank. After a quick glance at Ranger, Tank led Chase down the hall and they disappeared into the conference room.

Ranger gave Stephanie his full attention. "Curls?" he probed. He did not sound amused.

But Stephanie was amused, by Ranger's reaction. She grinned. "It was my biker name. Chase had ... has a motorcycle shop in Newark. He called it Chase Your Dreams. He taught me how to ride and, for a couple of years, that was how I got back and forth between Trenton and Newark. But, the wind really messed with my hair, and since I was a lingerie buyer for E.E. Martin, I had to look presentable. I finally turned in my V Star bike for a Mazda Miata."

Ranger closed his eyes. He knew there were still a lot of dark secrets in his life, but he thought he knew everything about his wife. She had lived her entire life in the Burg, and in the Burg, you lived your life in a goldfish bowl, especially someone as noticeable as Stephanie Plum. When he opened his eyes, he looked at his beautiful wife with renewed wonder.

"So, you were lovers?" he asked, making it sound more like an accusation than a question.

Without blinking, Steph spat out, "Yes. Like you, there were other people in my life before I met you."

He ignored that pointed jab. "Why does he want to talk to you?" Ranger queried her.

Steph began to bristle, feeling as if the interrogation had already begun and she was the suspect. "I don't know," she demurred. "Why don't we go in and ask him?" She started to move toward the conference room, but suddenly spun around and poked her finger against Ranger's chest. "Just to give you fair warning, later today we _are_ going to talk about what happened in the parking lot at Pino's."

"You can bet your sweet ass, we are," Ranger muttered under his breath, as he followed her into the conference room.

Stephanie took charge as soon as she entered. "Tank, this is personal, so if you wouldn't mind..."

Tank looked at Ranger, who was pulling out a chair across the table from Chase. Ranger nodded. Tank left the room and closed the door behind him.

Steph sat down next to Chase. "I'm sorry for what happened earlier. I hope you weren't hurt? My husband is very protective of me." She glanced over at Ranger and gave him a forced smile.

"I'm fine," Chase replied, unconsciously rubbing his wrists. "I wasn't sure what kind of reception I'd get, but it certainly wasn't that."

"You said you wanted to talk to me. What about?" she asked. "I still have the leather jacket you gave me. Do you want it back?" She smiled at him, letting him know she was teasing.

Chase returned the smile. "You were one badass biker in that jacket and jeans, your curls flying behind you."

Ranger shifted in his chair. He had a flashback of him and Grace, and Stephanie, at the safe house last year. Had Stephanie been as uncomfortable then as he was now?

No one spoke for a while.

Chase finally began. "I know you were a bounty hunter. I saw a couple of newspaper articles a few years ago. They called you the Bombshell Bounty Hunter. I thought maybe you still did that kind of work ... finding people." He looked at Ranger and then back at Stephanie. "But maybe you don't."

"I did that for several years. It was an extremely interesting job, if a little messy and dangerous. But I just recently started a new job, here at RangeMan. I'm their new Customer Relations manager."

"Oh," he said.

"Do you need a bounty hunter?" she asked. "Ranger has a few guys on staff that still do that kind of work." She looked at Ranger.

Ranger spoke. "Babe, I don't think he's looking for a bounty hunter."

"But..." she started.

"He's right," Chase said. "I don't need anyone brought in in handcuffs, but I do need help in finding someone."

"You need a private detective," Ranger said. "We don't do that kind of thing here at RangeMan. I can give you some names, though."

"I've tried a private detective. Two of them, in fact. Neither of them had any luck. I was hoping ... you seemed to have such extraordinary success, Curls, um, Stephanie. The papers said you always got your man."

"They exaggerated a bit," Stephanie protested. "Who do you need found?"

"It's my half-sister. It's..." Chase looked away, a pained expression on his face. "I need to find her for my son, actually." He looked back over at Stephanie. "I'm married now, to a wonderful woman, Sylvia, and we have a son, Eric. He's six. He's a great kid, a really great kid."

He pulled out his wallet and removed a picture, handing it to Stephanie. Smiling up from the paper was a cute little boy with gray eyes, sandy hair and splash of freckles across his nose. She showed Ranger the picture and then gave it back to Chase. "He's adorable. I bet he looks a lot like you did when you were that age."

Chase nodded. "He does. I knew I wanted kids, but I had no idea of the effect a kid could have on you. When he was born, he changed my life. And now..." Chase suddenly stood up and started pacing. As he strode around the small room, he talked, more to himself than to Stephanie or Ranger.

"Eric started getting sick about two years ago. No one knew what was wrong with him. He was misdiagnosed by several doctors, which delayed getting him quick treatment. When we knew what was wrong..." Chase paused and took a deep breath. "Eric was finally diagnosed with leukemia. It's cancer of the blood." Chase ran both hands through his hair.

"The poor kid's been through the wringer. He's been in and out of the hospital numerous times, and he's endured chemotherapy, but now, he needs a bone marrow transplant." He looked over at Stephanie and she could see the despair in his eyes. "He's too sick for the doctors to use his own body's cells. He needs what's called an allogeneic bone marrow transplant, from a related donor. Neither my wife nor I are a match.

"Eric has a rare blood type. My mom had the same type, but she died when I was in high school. We've been through the registry, but haven't had any luck. There was one potential donor, but when he was approached to donate for Eric, he declined. Unfortunately, nearly fifty percent of registered donors back out when it comes time to actually donate. It is beyond frustrating. We've even considered having another child, in the hopes they would be a match." He gripped the back of a chair. "That's how desperate we are. We've got no other living blood relations, except for my half-sister."

"Is she a match?" Stephanie asked.

"I don't know. There are so many factors involved in making the perfect match. And we _have_ to find a perfect match. Eric is getting weaker by the day and a partial match, that he might reject, could be the end of him. I ... I have to try everything I can." His voice had risen to a panicked state. Stephanie came up out of her chair and went to him, folding him in her arms. He was crying, his face buried in her shoulder. After a few minutes, his sobs subsided. Steph led him to his chair where he collapsed.

Steph glanced over at Ranger. "Would you get him a bottle of water, please?" Ranger was back within forty seconds, placing the bottle in front of Chase. Steph sat down next to him and rubbed her hand up and down his back until he was calm and able to drink some water.

"I'm sorry. I thought I was doing okay, but I ... I guess the strain is getting to me," he apologized.

"No need to be sorry. It's a stressful situation. It's your son," Stephanie said. "I'm so sorry you and your family are going through this. I'd like to help in whatever way I can. Tell me about your half-sister."

Chase lifted his head and stared at Steph, a flash of hope brightening his face. "I don't really know much about her. My mother had her when she was very young, fifteen, I think. Her parents felt she was too young to take care of a baby and too young to get married. The father was several years older than my mother, and he took full custody of the baby. My mother married years later, to my father, and they had me. I barely saw my sister, only a few times when I was growing up. We didn't get along very well." He looked over at Stephanie and shrugged. "I was a pretty bratty kid."

"I was pretty bratty to my older sister, too," Steph commiserated.

"She came to live with us when her father died," Chase continued. "I hadn't started high school yet, and Corrine, that's my half-sister, had less than two years of school left. She moved in during the spring of her junior year. She was pretty messed up and kept to herself most of the time. But that summer, my mother—I guess I should say _our_ mother—got really sick and Corrine had to take care of her. Corrine really stepped up and not only took care of Mom, but she took care of me and my dad, too, and the house. And then, a few days before school started again, she just up and left."

"She ran away? Where did she go?" Steph asked.

"I don't know. We never heard from her again," Chase said.

"Oh, wow," Steph exclaimed.

"Did anyone try to find her," Ranger asked. "Did your parents report her as a missing child?"

Chase nodded. "Yeah, my dad did. We didn't have much to give the cops, though. I know they kept an eye out for her in her old neighborhood, and they told us they sent out a missing child report to other states. But we never heard anything. Mom kept getting sick and she wasn't strong enough to do much other than plead with the cops to continue looking for her, and then she passed away a year later."

"That must have been hard on you and your father. I'm so sorry, Chase," Stephanie sympathized. "What else can you tell us about ... Corrine, was it?" Stephanie asked.

"Her name's Corrine Silva. Her father came to the States as a Portuguese immigrant, and he ran a diner in the Ironbound District in Newark."

Ranger leaned forward. "The Ironbound? Do you know where?"

Chase shook his head. "I think it was somewhere in the North District. All I know is that he owed a lot of money on the diner, so it was sold when he died, and Corrine got nothing."

"Do you have a picture of Corrine?" Ranger asked.

"No," Chase said. "The only picture I know of is the one the police used when she first disappeared. It was her sophomore high school yearbook photo."

"Describe her."

Chase shifted his focus to Ranger, and so did Steph. In fact, she stared intently at him.

Chase exhaled. "I don't know what she looks like now; she'd be thirty-four or thirty-five, I think. But when she was seventeen, she was small, um, petite, I think they call it. She had blonde hair and fair skin. Her eyes were gray, like mine. Family trait, I guess."

"Who were her friends?" Ranger pressed. "Who did she hang out with?"

"No one, as far I know. She didn't talk about her life before she moved in with us, and no one ever called the house to talk to her. No cell phones in those days. She didn't seem to make any new friends at Eastside. I'm sorry I can't be more help. She kept to herself. She cried herself to sleep a lot. I had the room next to hers." Again, he shrugged.

"I don't even know if she's still alive. Runaways don't have a good track record for a long life," Chase said. "She could be using a different name. She could be a drug addict or a prostitute, for all I know. Or she could be married with a dozen kids of her own. Or she could be dead. But I need to know, and soon. I need to know for Eric. If Corrine can't help him, we have to move on to something else. I can't ... I won't give up."

Steph sat up straight and blew out a long breath of air. "I'll do it. I'll help you find your half-sister."

Tears sprang up in Chase's eyes, and he stood and hugged her. Ranger also stood, but he stayed on his side of the table. He watched as the two former lovers hugged, laughed and cried together.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

 _ **Eighteen years ago in Newark**_

 _Corrine, or more accurately Wren, met Carlos again the next day under the bleachers. They talked about how much they both hated school. They talked about their families, each having their own reason why their home life was a bitch. For Corrine, it was the first time she didn't feel like someone was judging her. For Carlos, it was his first crush._

 _They continued to meet under the bleachers at least twice a week. They had to attend their respective classes a few days a week to keep the teachers at bay. They learned a lot about each other during that precious hour. Corrine told him about her father and their life together, running the café. She told him about how she got sucked into the gang life, and Carlos did the same. Their experiences were very different._

 _For Corrine, it was the older girls in the gang, along with the de facto leader Jax, who lured her into joining them with promises of being part of a close-knit "family", one who always took care of each other. She was only thirteen when they first approached her. She'd never known what it was like to have a mother, and she had no brothers and sisters, so the gang fulfilled that emptiness within her. She knew Jax was interested in her, and not just as another gang member. It was a heady feeling in the beginning, but when he started touching her and trying to get her alone, she began to get worried. Her father's warnings about boys and sex rang loudly in her head. Her saving grace came in the form of another girl, also new to the gang, as that girl had just recently moved to Jersey from Ohio where her extended Portuguese family lived. This new girl, Rosana, had immediately latched onto Jax and she was the jealous type. Corrine quickly sucked up to her and became her best friend, which gave her a good reason to legitimately ward off Jax's advances. But it hadn't been easy._

 _For Carlos, he joined the Cuban gang because he was getting beat up on a weekly basis by the other boys in the neighborhood. There were other Hispanic gangs like the Puerto Ricans and the Mexicans, and there were two black gangs and an Asian gang. And Carlos was relatively small for his age and an easy target. His father had assured him that he would grow bigger, but it was a Mañoso trait for the sons not to attain full growth until sixteen or seventeen years of age. That didn't help Carlos now, so he joined the Cuban youth gang at an early age. He learned to fight and defend himself, and he was good at it. But it didn't mean he liked the gang. He was, essentially, a loner forced into associating with the other Cuban boys. Sequestering himself under the bleachers was his way of avoiding his gang for a while. But he didn't mind sharing that precious time with Wren._

 _Corrine found herself smiling more, something she felt a little guilty about so soon after her father's death, but on the days she knew she'd be meeting Carlos, she couldn't help but be in a good mood. And Carlos, once a frequent ditcher of school, found himself eager to attend every day, even on the days he and Wren wouldn't be meeting under the bleachers, because he could at least watch her as she walked the halls to her next class. They were disappointed they couldn't eat lunch together; Eastside had staggered lunch hours and, as luck would have it, their lunch breaks were not the same. No one, not even Carlos's gang, suspected that they knew each other, much less that they spent time together._

 _Those last few weeks of school were the best times of their short lives. Things began to get serious when, one day, they thought they were going to be discovered. Another student started to crawl under the bleachers, and Carlos and Wren immediately reached for the other's hand. That was the first time they touched each other. It wasn't the last time. After that day, they always held hands for the entire hour they were together._

 _The week before the school term was to end, the two of them realized they wouldn't be seeing each other anymore. That was entirely unacceptable to both of them. Their best answer to that problem came, oddly enough, through the high school._

 _Each summer, Eastside offered a number of extracurricular programs to its students. Carlos and Wren looked over the offerings, and they decided to sign up for a personal finance class that met for three hours every weekday throughout the summer. They didn't plan to actually attend the class, and since the class wasn't for credit, their parents wouldn't know if they passed the class or not. It would give them three uninterrupted hours every weekday to spend with each other. And they could spend it in Independence Park. That recreational park was directly across from the high school, and it had lots of forested areas to get lost in. The perfect summer venue for two teenagers who wanted to spend some private time together._

 **Present Day Trenton**

Stephanie didn't have her key fob, but she knew the code that would send the elevator to the seventh floor. She punched the numbers into the keypad quickly and then stood as close to the door as she could, hiding her face from the camera. Running to the penthouse, Ranger's former abode, wouldn't go unnoticed, but she was making it as hard as possible for the surveillance team to see her face. She had no idea who was working the in-house monitors, but she knew her face was easily readable.

She'd been warned by more than one Merry Man never to play poker. She didn't know for certain what expressions were visible on her face because she wasn't sure what emotions were coursing through her. Anger, for sure, and maybe disappointment. Possibly fear. Fear that she didn't know the man she'd married nearly as well as she'd thought.

When she'd told Chase she'd help him find his half-sister, Ranger had stiffened, only slightly, but still enough for her to notice. She wasn't sure if it was because she hadn't asked his permission to help Chase, or because she'd instinctively hugged her old lover, but either way, that was something they should discuss. But not yet. She needed some time for her thoughts to settle, and the best place was the place she'd always felt secure, sheltered from the daily trials and tribulations that had ruled her bounty hunting days. Ranger's apartment was her Zen spot.

It surprised her a little that she missed the apartment. The Bat Cave, or Stately Wayne Manor as she'd taken to calling her new home, was fabulous. That was an undeniable fact. She'd had the girls over for lunch on several occasions, and they'd all been green with envy. And Stephanie felt the pride of ownership. She'd never be June Cleaver, but with Ella's help, she didn't have to be. She loved her new home, and yet, when things went south, the way they had today with Chase, she craved the comfort of Ranger's old apartment.

As she entered the space she felt a rush of homecoming. She'd been gratified to learn that Ranger had planned to keep the apartment intact. She'd thought maybe he'd want to expand the business offices to the top floor. RangeMan was growing after all. But for now, it would be available for an occasional safe house, or visiting staff or for the two of them if they needed to stay close to the action at RangeMan.

She knew Ranger was still in his office off the control room floor, but she hadn't spoken to him since he'd left the room after she'd hugged Chase. She and Chase had made plans to meet tomorrow at RangeMan so that she could interview him more thoroughly and take notes, and then she'd begin the search for Corrine in earnest. She didn't know if she could find his half-sister, especially when others had failed, but she was going to try very hard. She owed it to Chase.

Chase had entered her life at a time when things were starting to seem too safe. As a lingerie buyer for E.E. Martin, she was mindful of her need to maintain a professional persona, but she'd missed the free and easy times of her college years, and Chase had been the antidote to the boredom of the world of a young working professional.

He'd been the most unlikely business owner she'd ever encountered. Barely eking out a profit, he ran his business with a casualness that shocked her. Long-haired and wearing the leathers associated with bike riders, he'd looked a little dangerous, and a lot anti-establishment. And she'd been attracted to that much like she'd been attracted to Joe Morelli, the high school bad boy.

Chase had turned out to have a conservative side underneath his unconventional but attractive exterior. Maybe that was why he'd somehow managed to turn around his business and now was the owner of a chain of bike shops. He'd taught her to ride a bike and introduced her into a new culture, but, as a couple, they'd fizzled out eventually. The sex had been okay, but even in Stephanie's limited experience, she was pretty sure there were better times to be had in bed. So they'd parted company as lovers and vowed to stay friends.

Then Dickie Orr had entered the picture and her life had gone completely off track.

She walked to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water out of the sparsely stocked refrigerator. Then she went into the bedroom and flopped on the big bed in her thinking position to continue her reminiscing.

Yeah, she'd found out there'd been better sex waiting for her than she'd had with Chase. Dickie was exciting at the beginning, but finding him with Joyce Barnhardt put a sudden stop to that relationship. Then Morelli reappeared. The fireworks with him had been spectacular, but the day-to-day relationship, not so much. Joe couldn't break the habit of trying to control her every move, and mold her into what he wanted instead of what she was. He made her feel like a screw-up, always criticizing and never praising.

And then Ranger came into her life. He could ignite her in a way that made Joe's fireworks suddenly seem like bottle rockets in the face of Ranger's breath-taking, full night-sky lightning display. And Ranger thought she was competent and capable. He told her she never disappointed. And he told her he was an opportunist. He made it clear how much he wanted her and that he wouldn't pass up any chance that came his way. He'd never shown much jealousy over Morelli. There were times in the past that she'd come from Morelli's bed and found herself in Ranger's—and he'd been aware of it. He'd always seemed amused by it, because he knew, from the beginning, the way she felt about him.

So why had Ranger gone all caveman when he'd learned that Chase was an ex-lover?

Chase. Suddenly he was back in her life and he needed her help. She was going to give it to him, even if Ranger disapproved. And he obviously did. And that's what was so upsetting.

Ranger wasn't acting like Ranger. He was acting like Morelli. Stalking someone he thought was stalking her, without even telling her. That was more than a little disrespectful. She knew going into the marriage there would be things he couldn't or wouldn't share. Things from his past. She could live with that. What she couldn't live with was this new controlling Ranger, who was treating her more and more like Joe used to treat her.

She felt the familiar tingle at the base of her neck and opened her eyes to see Ranger, leaning against the door frame. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was staring at her.

"How long have you been there?" she asked, because even though she'd just become aware of his presence, she thought maybe he'd been watching her for a time. Ranger in stealth mode.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. His expression was unreadable, and his body unmoving. She couldn't tell what his mood was, but she didn't think it was good.

"I'm thinking," she responded. "This seemed like a good place to think. I was waiting for you to be done for the day so we could go home together. I was with Lula. I have no transportation."

"You didn't have to wait for me," he said. "You could have taken a fleet vehicle, or caught a ride with one of the guys. I thought you were going to work from home today."

"I was," she replied. "But after I talked with Chase I decided to make my calls from the office, since I was already here. After I finished my calls, I did some schedule rearranging so I'd have time to help Chase."

"You're pushing RangeMan work back to help him, then?"

"I've rescheduled a couple of minor appointments, and I've done some delegating. I am a manager, as you reminded me earlier today. I think it's within my scope as a department head to do so."

"You're putting a former lover's needs in front of those of the company your husband owns?" He still hadn't moved.

"Once again, Ranger," she said, climbing from her supine position to kneel on the bed and face him. "This morning you reminded me that RangeMan is ours now, not just yours, and that I don't need to ask your permission for everything I do."

His arms were still folded across his chest. Except for the little tic along the edge of his jawline, he was unmoving.

"Are you going to forbid me to help him?" she asked.

"As the CEO, I have the power to do that."

"Yes, you do. And if that's what you feel, then you should tell me that I'm forbidden to help him."

Ranger raised an eyebrow. "And if I did tell you, you'd acquiesce and withdraw your offer to help him find his sister?" he asked. "You don't ordinarily like to be told what to do."

"You're right, I don't," she said. "But you do have that right. And if you tell me not to do it," she paused briefly, adjusting her stance on the bed, "I have the right to resign my position. I'll quit, and then I'll help him."

"Are you threatening me?" he asked, his voice a little too quiet, too smooth.

"Are you threatening me?" she responded, her voice not smooth at all. Finally, Ranger moved.

In a few quick strides, he was at the side of the bed. He reached out and hauled her from the bed, his hands digging into her armpits. They stood toe-to-toe and from the closeness of her position she could clearly see the narrowed eyes and the tightness around his beautiful mouth. Yep, he was angry. That's okay, she thought. She was angry, too, and she was betting he could see it. She wanted to choose her next words carefully. Arguing with Ranger was like playing chess. She couldn't just spit something out without trying to figure his response and plan her next verbal attack.

While she was considering her words, she became aware of the hardness of his thighs against hers. She sucked in a deep breath and a hint of Bulgari tickled her nose. She pulled away, fighting the sudden awareness, the tingling working its way from her stomach and settling in … lower. He let go of her, at the feel of her resistance, and then wrapped his arms around her to catch her as she overbalanced and almost fell. He pulled her in close and she realized it wasn't just his thighs that were hard against her.

She looked up at his eyes to find dilated pupils and a mouth that had softened. He muttered something that she recognized as a Spanish curse word, but one she couldn't translate. His mouth came down on hers, and she responded by parting her lips under his. The kiss was a serious one, and she knew where it was leading.

"Ranger, we need to talk." She sucked in air as his hand found its way under her shirt, and he pulled it up and over her head. Her bra was removed quickly by his capable hands, and her nipples pebbled as the cool air of the room washed over them. Ranger bent his head and took one in his mouth.

Stephanie groaned. "I … I won't give up on this …" She gasped, unable to talk as he sucked hard. Then he moved his attention to the other breast. He moved back and straightened to pull his t-shirt up and over his head. His hand went to his belt buckle and, unthinkingly, Stephanie pushed his hands away so that she could finish the task.

When they were naked and on the bed, he rolled over her and began dropping kisses across her breasts, slowly trailing lower across her abdomen, and lower still. His hands parted her thighs and his voice tickled her soft skin. "I apologized," he said.

"Wh-what?"

"I apologized to Chase," he said, his hands gripping her hips. He pulled her body lower on the bed. "I told him I was sorry for the misunderstanding today." He dipped his head lower and neither one of them could talk any longer.

Later, it was Ranger who reinitiated the conversation, with an apology to Stephanie. "I'm sorry, Babe. I was determined to take this guy down before the situation got out of control. I should have told you."

"You should have," she agreed, dropping little kisses along his collarbone.

"I was trying to protect you. You've been through a lot, and I thought if I could take care of this, you'd never have to know."

"That's not fair to me," she said. She rubbed her hand slowly over the muscles in his arms, appreciating the velvety softness of his skin. "We're partners. You need to tell me."

"I was trying to protect you."

"That's admirable, but can't you protect me _and_ inform me?" She moved her hand to his abdomen and began drawing circles, each one spiraling a little lower.

"You're right, Babe." He gasped as her hand skimmed below his belly button, across the scar from an op gone wrong. "I won't lie. I don't want you to get involved with this investigation. I think Chase needs to look elsewhere."

"So, you're telling me no?" she asked, her hand momentarily stilling.

"No, I'm not. I'm telling you my preference is for you to say no, but you said yes, so I'm telling you I won't stand in your way."

Stephanie's hand dipped lower and her fingers wrapped around the semi-hardness. It only took a few seconds for the semi to leave and then she lowered her head to follow the path of her hand. Her voice was muffled against his warm skin. "I'll be careful with this one, Ranger. There won't be any problems, and I won't neglect my RangeMan obligations."

"That's good," he said, as her head moved even lower. "That's … uh, good," he repeated, a catch in his voice. And then once again, neither one of them could talk.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

 _ **Eighteen years ago in Newark**_

 _That summer, Corrine was a study in contrasts. When she was at her mother's house, she was a silent, sullen and sulking teenager who spent as much time as she could alone in her room. When she was with Carlos, she was a giddy, giggling girl who loved to run and play in the park. As Wren, she also willingly disappeared into the park's shrubbery, hand in hand, with Carlos._

 _Carlos, on the other hand, continued his intense brooding demeanor while at home, a place he avoided whenever he could. When he wasn't with Wren at the park, he was with his gang, getting into trouble. They shoplifted small items from neighborhood stores, vandalized buildings and vehicles, and got into fights with the other youth gangs. Carlos took to carrying a knife on his person at all times. One night, he and a few gang members hotwired a brand new Cadillac and went joyriding, abandoning the vehicle after they crashed it into a tree. Most of the time, they didn't get caught and that encouraged them to try even bolder acts._

 _In June, the police picked up Carlos and another gang member for stealing beer and cigarettes from a convenience store. Under police escort, he returned the stolen merchandise with a forced apology to the storeowner. He got a slap on the wrist because he was a minor and it was his first official offense. In July, he got caught stealing a laptop and spent the night in lockup. His father had to come pick him up and assure the police that it would not happen again, an embarrassing situation for both of them. After that, his parents grounded him for two weeks. However, they did allow him to continue to attend his "personal finance" class at Eastside. He didn't care that he was grounded or that his parents were angry with him, as long he could continue to see Wren._

 _The first of August, things changed. The personal finance class had only a few weeks to go, and then the regular school term would start. But one day, Wren didn't show up. Carlos had no idea why she was a no-show. And he had no way to contact her. They had never exchanged last names, feeling that the mystery enhanced their situation. And neither of them wanted the other calling their respective homes._

 _After a week of going to the park and not seeing Wren, he let his mind go to some dark places. Maybe she was sick, maybe she'd been in an accident, maybe she was dead or, maybe, she was just tired of him? He didn't know whether to be concerned or angry, but because of it, one night he let himself be talked into trying to steal the Mexican gang leader's prized classic lowrider. There was a deadly gang fight that ended with two teens killed, and Carlos badly injured. When he tried to limp back into his parents' house that night, they discovered his banged up and bloody condition. After spending several days in the hospital, he was released only to have his mother stay home and watch him, and refuse to let him leave the house, even to attend his class. That enforced sequestration continued for two weeks, much to Carlos's dismay._

 _As for Corrine, she had also spent time in the emergency room, which was why she'd been unable to meet Carlos at the park. Her mother had become suddenly ill, and Corrine had had to take her to the hospital. They were there all day until the evening, when Chet came and brought them both home. There'd been no definitive diagnosis, but Patty was so sick and weak that she couldn't even make it to the bathroom. She needed daily care and someone to change and wash her. They couldn't afford a home nurse. It was either Chase or Corrine, and due to the intimate nature of the required care, Corrine was chosen._

 _It was more than a week before Patty was strong enough to even get out of bed. However, Patty let Corrine go to the school to explain to the teacher why she was dropping the class. Corrine, of course, went straight to her and Carlos's meeting place in the park, but he wasn't there. She didn't know why he was a no-show, and she had no way to contact him. Disheartened, she returned home and begrudgingly continued to take care of her sick mother._

 _After a couple of weeks of this, Corrine was desperate. She knew the name of one of the girls in Carlos's gang and found her parents' number in the phone book. When she thought she was alone, Corrine called the girl and asked about Carlos. She learned his last name was Mañoso and that he'd been in a bad gang fight, but was all right. Corrine asked her if she would pass a message to Carlos. The message included a time and date to meet, and the address of a drugstore around the corner from where Corrine lived. Corrine was allowed to go to the drugstore occasionally to pick up medicine for her mother. She got there early and waited for over an hour, but Carlos never came._

 _Unable to accept his rejection, she found his parents' phone number in the phone book and tried calling him several times, but each time an older woman answered and told her that Carlos did not want to speak to her. The woman told her to leave her son alone. A week later, Corrine called the gang girl again and learned that Carlos was gone, that he had moved out of state. And he wouldn't be returning._

 _That news sent Corrine reeling. She was back to feeling that she was all alone in the world. Her grief over her father's death came back full force and left her depressed. She was always exhausted, and found herself getting sick nearly every day. Her mother was feeling better and could finally take care of herself, but Corrine was still asked to do things like make dinner for the family and do the laundry. She felt like she was a slave._

 _The one bright spot, surprisingly, was Chase. Whether her half-brother felt sorry for her or was just growing up, he tried to lighten her workload by helping with the chores. He even started talking to her, and she to him. But it didn't stop her depression. She couldn't imagine another year of this, of living with a mother she resented, of going to school and being ostracized by the entire senior class, of having no friends. And now, with Carlos gone, she knew she couldn't do it._

 _So, a few days before school started, Corrine packed up what she could fit into a backpack and she left. She got a ride to the highway and started hitchhiking. Her family, and Carlos, never heard from her again._

 **Present Day Trenton and Newark**

Stephanie arrived at RangeMan, eager to get started on her new project. Ranger had said he wouldn't interfere with her helping Chase find his half-sister, as long as she maintained her cases with RangeMan clients. She thought she could do both even if searching for Corrine involved some travel, though she and Ranger hadn't talked about that possibility. But she wouldn't worry about that now.

Corrine! She'd been gone for nearly eighteen years. Where was she? Was she still alive? Thousands of questions had swirled through Steph's mind since Chase had told her about his half-sister. Her heart ached for Chase and his son Eric, but she was also concerned about this mysterious Corrine. It sounded like she had had a rough life, with her mother giving her up at birth, and then losing her father so young. Then she had to go live with her mother, stepfather and half-brother, who she didn't really know. She must have felt so alone.

Steph could understand Corrine's desire to get away. Stephanie had frequently felt that way when she was growing up. The worst was when Joe Morelli had waxed poetic on a bathroom wall about deflowering her when she was sixteen. Steph had wanted nothing more than to drop into a black hole, or run away, not only from home and her parents' wrath, but from the Burg gossip mill and Trenton in general. Where would I have gone, Steph mused, with no money, no car, and no family outside of the Burg. Would I have been strong enough to make it on my own? Had Corrine? She hoped so.

Steph plopped down on her chair and started up her computer. She would run every search program RangeMan had access to, if that's what it took. She began typing.

Three hours later, she leaned back in her chair, tired and discouraged. She hadn't been able to find a single trace of Corrine after she'd run away from her mother's house, eighteen years ago. Steph had been able to find her birth certificate, her social security number, and her elementary and high school records.

But there were no new traces of Corrine Silva after she'd left home. Steph had included the entire United States in her search. She couldn't find any evidence that Corrine had used her social security number, and there were no tax records, no financial transactions, no credit cards, no employment records, no criminal records. No driver's license. No record of death. Nothing.

Steph closed her eyes and went back over everything she knew about Corrine, which admittedly wasn't much. There had to be something...

Steph's trance was broken by a knock on her door. She opened her eyes to see Tank standing in front of her desk. "How does someone just disappear off the face of the earth?" Steph complained.

"They don't," he replied.

"Did Ranger fill you in on what I'm doing?"

"Yeah. Sounds like a tough situation."

"It is," Steph agreed. "And the reality is, even if I can find Chase's sister, she may not be a match for his son, and all my efforts will be for nothing."

"Finding his sister wouldn't be nothing. At a time like this, a man can use all the family he can get."

Steph smiled. "You're right, Tank. Do you have a minute? I'd like to pick your brain."

"Slim pickings," he joked as he wedged his large frame into a chair in front of her desk. Her guest chairs were soft and cushy, unlike the ones in Ranger's office, which were hard and slippery.

"Nothing about you is slim," Steph quipped. Gesturing at her computer, she said, "I didn't enjoy doing searches when I did temp work at RangeMan, but I thought I'd gotten pretty good at it. But I can't find any trace of Corrine Silva. I even tried Corrine Fields, and Corrine Behrens, thinking, maybe, she'd used her mother's married or maiden name."

She handed Tank the folder that contained all she knew and had been able to find regarding Corrine. There was silence while Tank skimmed through the paperwork. When Tank finally looked up, his expression was grim.

"What?" Stephanie asked, her heart dropping.

"Try matching her with morgue descriptions of Jane Does," Tank suggested. "I'd concentrate on the year she disappeared, as a first go-round."

"You think she's dead?"

"It's an option."

"Okay, I'll do that, but I need a positive suggestion, too," Steph pleaded.

"People change their name, and they even change their appearance."

"How is that positive?" she scowled.

"It assumes she's still alive," he replied.

"Great!" Steph exclaimed sarcastically. "But did she keep her first name and create a fake last name? Did she get married and take her husband's name? Or did she assume an entirely new name?"

Tank shrugged. "More options."

"I need answers, not blind options," Steph countered.

Tank leaned back until his chair rested on its two back legs. He steepled his fingers together and was silent for a few minutes. Steph recognized his thinking position, even though her preferred position was a prone one. By the time he finally spoke, Steph had almost fallen asleep.

"Her father immigrated from Portugal, right?" Tank said. "And he settled in the one place in the States where there are nearly more Portuguese than in his home country. If she identifies as strongly with her heritage as her father did, check out other Portuguese communities in the States."

"That's good," Steph said, writing down his idea. "Anything else?"

"Her father ran a diner. I'm betting she worked there, too. So keep waitress jobs in mind when looking for her."

When Tank didn't say anything for a while, Steph looked up from her notepad, an expectant look on her face. Tank sighed, and kept talking. "She didn't graduate from high school. Check for institutions that help people get their GED. Don't forget to include prisons in your search. And remember, it's easy to rely on computer searches, but not everything is available over the internet. A lot of places still use only paper for their records. You're good at the personal stuff, getting people to talk. Sometimes you have to get out in the field and get down and dirty."

Steph paused for a moment, considering the man sitting so casually across the desk from her. They'd come a long way in their relationship, but he was still intimidating. She debated about asking the question that she was dying to know. "I noticed that you haven't been getting out in the field much lately. You used to make frequent trips to the RangeMan office in Atlanta, but you haven't been down there, getting dirty or otherwise."

Tank squirmed a little, shifting his bulk from one side to the next. "Your powers of observation are correct. I've been concentrating on the Trenton office, and getting you squared away in your new position here." Tank stared hard at Stephanie, making her squirm a little, too.

Tank still made her nervous, but she couldn't drop it. "So, no _social_ visits to Georgia, either?" She could have sworn he rolled his eyes at her.

"Spit it out, Stephanie. You wanna know if I'm still seeing Grace, don't you?"

"Well," she hemmed a little, "I was wondering..."

"School's out for summer," Tank stated cryptically as he stood up. He chuckled to himself as he walked out of the office, enjoying the puzzled expression on Stephanie's face. He imagined that Grace often had that same expression when she thought of him. His would-be tutor had become his student, much to her surprise. But Tank was finished with lessons on how to tell the shrimp fork from the salad fork. He wanted someone who enjoyed eating shrimp with her fingers at the all-you-can-eat buffet, instead of worrying about manners and etiquette. As far as Tank was concerned, that particular school was out forever.

Stephanie worked through lunch. When she'd exhausted the available computer searches, she decided to try Tank's thinking position. Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes and tried to put herself in Corrine's shoes, a distraught, grieving seventeen-year-old's shoes.

...

Stephanie stared down at the grave. Except for the small stone marker, the grass was bare. There were no flowers, dead or alive, no trinkets left in memoriam. Just a one-foot-square flat headstone with a man's name and the dates of his birth and death. As she was standing there, she noticed an elderly man in overalls raking leaves off the grass of the gravesites a row over. She walked over to him.

"Excuse me," she interrupted his raking. "Can you tell me if anyone leaves flowers or other things on Tomas Silva's grave?"

He looked at her, a frown scrunching up his face. "Which one?" he asked. She pointed and he stepped over and looked down at the area. After a pause, he said, "No. Nuttin's ever been left there."

"You're sure?" Steph asked.

"I'm sure. Been doing this for sixty years. I know these graves like the back of my hand." He started raking again.

"Okay, thanks," Steph said.

This visit to the cemetery had been her last hope of finding a clue to Corrine in Newark. She'd spent most of the day talking to the local police and shop owners in the North Ironbound District. No one had seen or talked to Corrine since her father's funeral, eighteen years ago.

Steph had even tracked down a man once known as Jax, the leader of Ironbound's youth gang. She'd been told that Jax, or Jackson Bomba, was now the manager of an auto parts store in Newark.

The store was in the Ironbound district in east Newark, down by the docks. It was one of several stores in a long strip of adjoined buildings, flanked by a twenty-four hour convenience store on one end and an automotive repair garage on the other. There was only street parking, but fortunately, there was an open slot in front of the auto parts store. When Steph had entered the shop, she'd been approached by a middle-aged man. "What can I do for you?" he asked. His nametag read Jackson.

It was hard for Steph to imagine this forty-year-old, pot-bellied man with a receding hairline as the commanding leader of a bunch of rebellious teens. "Are you Jackson Bomba?"

"That's me, little lady," he said, taking a step closer. "You've heard of me?" he asked, leering at her.

"I'd like to ask you about the gang you once belonged to," Steph said.

He frowned. "That was a long time ago. I don't do that shit anymore."

"I'm trying to find someone. Corrine Silva. Do you remember her?"

Jackson scratched his ear. "Corrine? I haven't thought of her in years. What'd she do?"

"She didn't do anything. Her brother would like to get in touch with her, that's all," Steph informed him.

"I didn't know she had a brother."

"He's her half-brother. Corrine moved in with her mother and half-brother after her father died, and then she disappeared."

Jackson's eyes narrowed. "If you're here to dredge up old man Silva's death again, I got nothing to say to you."

"Like I said, I'm just trying to find Corrine for her brother. Her father's death may have been a trigger for her disappearance, but I only care about tracking Corrine down."

"Old man Silva's death was a tough break for her," Jackson acknowledged. "Her father thought he was a big shot in the North Ironbound. He wasn't too fond of me or my boys. Afraid we was gonna corrupt his good little girl." Jackson grinned, showing his yellowed teeth.

Steph inched back a little. "When was the last time you saw Corrine?"

Jackson studied her for a moment. "What's in this for me?"

"You'd be helping out her brother, who really needs to find his sister."

"I might know something for the right price," he countered, holding up his hand and rubbing his thumb across his fingers.

Steph sighed and reached in her purse. After handing him a twenty, she asked again, "When was the last time you spoke to Corrine?"

Grinning as he tucked the money in his front pocket, he answered her question. "Has to have been nearly twenty years ago. At her father's funeral. I left the gang not long after that. Went on to bigger and better things."

Steph glanced around the rundown store and resisted rolling her eyes. "What about the other gang members? Was there anyone Corrine was close to?" Steph asked.

"I don't know." He shrugged again. "We were all close. We're all Portuguese. We stick together. You have to or the other gangs wipe the streets with you. Most of my gang was from the Ironbound, but we had a few members who moved in from other places like Boston and Providence." He paused for a moment. "There was one girl in the gang that Corrine was friends with."

"What was her name?"

"Um, that was a long time ago. I don't know if I can remember back that far..." Jackson rubbed his thumb across his fingers again and winked at her.

"Don't even go there," Steph warned. "What was her name?"

He shrugged. "I think it was ... Rosana."

"Do you know Rosana's last name?" Steph probed.

"I think it was Costa. I remember Rosana moved here from Ohio and joined the gang just before Corrine did. She was sweet on me. All the girls were." He took a step forward and leered lasciviously at Steph.

Steph held up her hand. "About Rosana..."

His eyes drifted down to her chest where his gaze stayed. "I heard she moved back home ... a few months before Corrine's father died."

A man entered the store and Jackson started to fidget. Stephanie knew she had to wrap things up. "Do you think Corrine would have sought out another Portuguese community if she left Newark?"

"I don't know. I would, if I left the Ironbound. It's a part of who I am, being Portuguese." Jackson stared at her. "Why do you want to know all this stuff? Are you a private dick?"

Stephanie deflected his last few questions, asked a few more of her own, but Jackson couldn't provide much more information. She gave him her card and asked him to call her if he remembered anything else.

It had been a long discouraging day, and Stephanie realized that Newark was a dead end. Tired and hungry, she decided to stop by her in-laws and take a break before returning to Trenton. Sofia always had something good to eat and, maybe, a mother of a once-rebellious teenager might be able to provide some insight into Corrine's situation.

Steph sat at the Mañoso's kitchen table, eating peach empanadas while Sofia bustled around the homey kitchen, making preparations for dinner. Stephanie had already told her mother-in-law about Corrine and the difficulties in finding her.

"You have the most interesting life," Sofia exclaimed. "Carlos had told us of some of your adventures before we'd even met you. It seems that even now, as a married woman, you are still having adventures."

Steph wasn't sure if Sofia was subtly chastising her or not, but she bristled a little, just the same. Sofia recognized the emotion. She came over and sat across from Stephanie, laying her hand over hers. "I do not mean to disparage you, my dear. If truth be known, I admire you. In fact, I am a little envious of you. I once had big dreams, too. Mind you, I am happy with my life, but my life adventures involve diapers, school plays, soccer games and dance recitals. And now, grandchildren." Sofia beamed. "I live for my grandchildren." She gave Stephanie a meaningful look.

Steph blushed. She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "If my asking to see Carlos's baby pictures a while back led you to believe we were thinking of having a child, I have to disappoint you. We haven't even talked about children. We've waited so long to be together that we want to enjoy just the two of us for a while." Steph saw Sofia's mouth droop, so she threw her a bone. "Julie is coming to stay with us for the summer. I was hoping to bring her up here to visit you and her dad's side of the family."

Sofia beamed again. "Julie! Such a sweet child. We have only seen her a few times. I send her birthday gifts and Christmas gifts, but it is not enough. I want to hold her, spoil her like I do all my other grandchildren."

"I'll make sure you get to spend some quality time with Julie this summer. You could even come down to Trenton and stay with us for a few days," Steph told her. "Now that we're in the new house north of town, Newark isn't as far away.

Sofia's eyes glistened with emotion. "That would be wonderful, Stephanie. To see Julie and to also spend more than just an hour with Carlos would ... how do the kids say ... make my day." She turned serious. "When Carlos told us he had gotten a young girl pregnant and was marrying her, I didn't know whether to be mad at him for his carelessness or proud that he was doing the right thing by his child. Pride won out. But to know you have a grandchild out in the world and you cannot see her, that has been a soreness in my heart for years. Just as having to send Carlos to his grandmother when he was so young, that nearly killed me. He has told you of those dark days?"

Stephanie nodded. "Yes, he told me that he was involved in a gang and they got into trouble. He said that you sending him to his grandmother in Miami probably saved his life." Steph reached out and patted Sofia's hand. "You did the right thing." She sat back. "I was hoping you might have some motherly insight into a similar case. It's Corrine Silva, the runaway I told you about."

"Such a sad situation. The poor girl must have felt so alone, losing her father when she was so young. And then having to live with a mother she barely knew, a mother who got sick and couldn't be the strong influence she needed," Sofia exclaimed. "I remember Carlos at that age. He was so headstrong, and so angry. You couldn't tell him anything. I am just thankful his abuela was able to reach him, to knock some sense into him."

"Corrine didn't have anyone to turn to, to go to," Steph said. "I thought she might have gone back to her old gang, but I checked that out today and it didn't lead anywhere. Carlos seemed to make a clean break with his gang, too."

"Not at first," Sofia told her. "His father and I had to force him to leave, to get on the plane to Miami. He threatened to return if we sent him away. Oh, that was an awful gang he hung around with. They had such a strong hold on him," Sofia exclaimed. "They got him into trouble after trouble. That last gang fight nearly killed him. I nursed him for over two weeks before he could even walk again. And still, he tried to sneak out of the house. His so-called friends would come by and try to get him to join them for some mischief, and Papa would run them off. We were afraid he would end up in prison. Carlos even had girls calling him night and day. He was only fifteen! Can you imagine what his life would have been like had he gotten some young girl pregnant at that tender age? I shudder to even think about it. At least, when he had Julie, he was old enough to be able to support her and still make something of his life."

"He definitely has made a success of his life. His company is doing very well. You can be proud of your son. I know I am," Stephanie boasted. "And he loves Julie. He's excited about her upcoming visit. I want the three of us to make some special memories this summer. I'm only Julie's stepmother, but I am hoping I can put a positive spin on that title."

"You are a great example to her already. You saved her life, and you love her father. She adores you."

Stephanie blushed. "She's a pretty special kid. If I ever have a child..." Steph immediately shut her mouth, not wanting to give her mother-in-law false hope.

"We will welcome a child of Carlos's, anytime, with open arms," she told Stephanie, smiling slyly.


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: We appreciate everyone sticking with our story despite the notification glitch, which now seems to be fixed. We hope we responded to each reviewer's questions and comments. However, many of you choose to comment as a "guest" and we are unable to answer guest reviews. We appreciate each and every review. Thank you, dear readers._

 **CHAPTER 6**

 **Present Day New Jersey**

Stephanie pulled the sapphire blue Porsche Macan into the garage and exited on the run. She'd stayed longer than she intended in Sofia's kitchen. Before she entered the Bat Cave, she turned to give a quick admiring look at her little blue car. Even though her trip today had been business, looking for the slightest clue that would help her find Corrine, she had enjoyed her drive. The Macan had been Ranger's wedding gift, and it was such fun to see it parked in her assigned space between two black RangeMan vehicles in the garage at Haywood. Yes, she was part of RangeMan, but the all black rule didn't apply to her. Ranger'd given her a very pretty car, one that she was determined to keep from an early death by explosion. He'd said it matched her eyes, which thrilled her—not because she was so vain she needed a car to match her eyes—but because Ranger would think to make the comparison. He was a closet romantic, and her mission was to bring that side of him to the surface.

As she rounded the corner into the kitchen, her nose perked up at the aroma of freshly baked bread. On the counter was a note from Ella telling her what was waiting for her to serve her husband. Tonight's entrée was coq au vin, with homemade rolls that were still warm in a bread basket on the counter. In the fridge was a nice endive salad to start the meal and a caramel flan to finish it. She read the instructions, looked at her watch and offered a prayer of thanks for Ella.

By the time Ranger was home she would have everything under control. She still felt a little off center from the near-meltdown she'd had yesterday. The situation hadn't morphed into a full-blown battle, but they'd been close. She wanted a conflict-free evening with her husband, an evening of quiet talk and good food, and lovemaking. He'd know, of course, that she was setting a scene, and he'd figure out why, but she knew he'd appreciate the effort. Not that it was that much effort … what would she do without Ella?

Later, when she was eating Ranger's portion of the caramel custard, she casually mentioned her trip to Newark. "I spent some time with your mother today," she told him as she slipped a spoonful of the dessert into her mouth. She let the flavor play on her tongue for a bit before she swallowed.

"You were in Newark?"

"Yeah, I was tracking down a lead on Chase's sister," she told him.

Ranger's eyes widened. "You have a lead?"

"I thought I did," she said as she scooped up another spoonful of the flan. "Turns out it was a dead end." She grimaced at her choice of words. She didn't want to think Corrine was dead. "Tank suggested I compare her description to that of Jane Does from the year she disappeared. I haven't done that yet."

"There's a search program specifically tailored for that," Ranger said. "It's available at RangeMan, although it's not used much. I can take a look at it for you."

Stephanie set her spoon down and smiled at her husband. "Thanks," she told him, warmed by his offer to help. "But, I can do it. I put it off, because I don't want to think she's dead. I want to find her for Chase, and…"

"I know you do," Ranger interrupted. "But if the news is bad, he deserves it as quickly as possible, to see if there's another option out there for his son."

"There are no other options," Stephanie said. "I know Chase pretty well and he wouldn't be here asking for my help if there was another way. He's more of a giver than a taker."

"That's right," Ranger said. "He was your lover, so I imagine you know him pretty well. Why don't you tell me about him?" He pushed back from the table and leveled a stare at Stephanie that had the caramel custard roiling in her stomach.

"I'm not taking the bait, Mr. Mañoso," she said flippantly. "You're trying to intimidate me and make me tell you about an ex-lover. And what's sauce for the goose …" Ranger frowned as if he didn't understand her comment. "What I mean is, I'm sure you've got plenty you could tell me about your ex-lovers."

"You know about Rachel, and Grace," he told her. "My past romantic life is an open book."

She sputtered. She wasn't sure, but she thought he was teasing her. She pushed back her chair and started clearing the table. She could leave it for Ella, but that didn't seem right, so she stacked up plates and took them to the sink. Ranger remained in his chair watching her every move. After she rinsed the last plate, she turned and pointed at him. "If your past romantic life is an open book, then it's a journal with a lot of empty pages! There's not one open thing about you, Ranger! Are you telling me you've only ever had two lovers? What happened to the girl who took your virginity when you were only fifteen?"

"I'm not telling you anything, Babe. I'm sitting here waiting to see if you have anything to tell me."

"You mean about my past romantic life?" she asked. He inclined his head once.

"Then you're going to be waiting for a long time. I hope that chair is comfortable." She turned from the sink and came back to the table to wipe it clean. Her strokes with the wet cloth were short and quick, her lips were pursed and her eyes looked anywhere but at Ranger. As she moved close, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down on his lap.

"I am baiting you, Babe. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't play with you. Your life before me isn't any of my business, but if you want to tell me…" His breath fanned the sensitive spot at the base of her neck and she shivered.

"I can tell you about Chase," she offered. "I wasn't hiding my past. It's just that it was so far past and so irrelevant to my present life, I never thought to talk about it. But I think I've mentioned him to you before, maybe just not by name." Ranger raised an eyebrow.

"You know I have a motorcycle license," she said. Ranger nodded. "And you know," she continued, "that a guy I used to date taught me how to ride—Chase is that guy. It was a long time ago, ancient history."

"Babe." Ranger raised his hand to her mouth and let a finger outline her lips. His eyes took in her face and what she saw there—desire—warmed her from the inside out. "I'm sorry, Stephanie."

"It's okay," she said. "I knew you were teasing me, about Chase."

"I was," he said, "but that's not what I'm sorry about. I told you last night that I apologized to Chase. Now I want to apologize to you."

"It's okay, honestly, you don't…"

"I do. I should have told you I thought there was a stalker. I didn't because I know you are still dealing with the last situation."

"Terry," she stated.

"Yes, Terry. I thought by keeping it from you I could spare you the anxiety and pain."

"I know," she told him, shifting her weight and settling in comfortably on his lap for what looked to be a serious conversation. "I appreciate that, but…"

"…but we're partners and we're in this together. I should have told you," Ranger said. "Maybe you'd have been able to recognize Chase and the confrontation at Pino's could have been avoided."

"Maybe," she agreed.

"So," he said softly, "I'll try to be more transparent. I'll try to keep you apprised and not take control from you. I can't promise I'll be perfect, because my instinct is to neutralize anyone causing you harm."

"Neutralize?" she gulped.

"Neutralize," he affirmed. "Turns out, Batman likes being part of a dynamic duo, Babe."

She stood and held out her hand to him. He took it and stood, and she wrapped her arms around him. "Did you just infer that I'm the Boy Wonder?" she asked him.

"Just a wonder, Babe." He tilted her chin up and kissed her. "Let's go upstairs."

"That sounds good," she said. "I want to tell you what I've got planned for the room at the end of the hall … for Julie."

"That's not exactly what I had planned, but I can work with it. We haven't christened that room yet, and it has soft carpet."

"Eeeww, Ranger! We can't have sex in your daughter's bedroom. That's creepy."

"It would be if it was her bedroom," he agreed. "But it's not her room ... not yet."

Later, when they were in their bed, their conversation turned back to Stephanie's search for Chase's half-sister. "What's your next step?"

"I guess I'll do the Jane Doe database search," Stephanie told him. "But I won't find her there. I just know it. And then I'll start over because I've got a feeling there's something I'm missing." She shook her head and frowned. "I have to find her."

Ranger had a feeling, too. Something was niggling at the edge of his memory. He wondered if there was more to the story than they knew or they'd been told. He'd wait to see what she came up with, but he might have some searches of his own to run.

...

"Hey, Chase," Stephanie said, shifting her phone to her left hand so she could drive with her right. "How's your son?"

"Eric's in the hospital, again," Chase told her. "Sylvia and I are here with him. His red blood cell count's low, so he's getting a transfusion." He was silent for a few moments. "I don't know, Curls. I'm losing hope."

Steph's heart ached for her old friend, but the best way to help him was to push on with the task he'd given her. "I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry for asking, but are you up to discussing Corrine? I'm about ten minutes from Newark."

Chase sighed. "Yeah, we can meet, but I don't know what else I can tell you."

"I have some questions, and they may spark your memory," she answered. They agreed to meet at the hospital. Steph hung up and concentrated on negotiating the crowded streets of Newark.

They met in the waiting room on Eric's floor, but there were people coming and going and it was distracting. Stephanie needed Chase to concentrate and remember the past. She suggested they talk in the chapel, if it wasn't being used. His wife Sylvia stayed behind, in case Eric needed her.

After they settled in the back pew, Stephanie began. "I'm having no luck finding even a hint of Corrine. I've spent countless hours in front of the computer, running search after search, refining the search categories and key words, and I'm still coming up empty. I've spent an equal amount of time on the phone, calling various state and federal agencies, local police departments, city morgues and educational institutions, among others. I've come to Newark numerous times, talking with the Newark police, the two high schools Corrine attended, and Ironbound's Portuguese community. And nothing!"

Chase looked totally defeated. "That's the same result the two PIs I hired had. They couldn't find a trace of her anywhere."

"I don't think Corrine used her real name after she left Newark. Do you know of any other name she went by or that she might have used? A grandparent's name or a family friend?"

"I think her father called her Renie," Chase said, "but she got upset when Mom called her that. I can't think of any another name, first or last, that she might have used."

"I don't think I'm going to find out what happened to Corrine through normal investigative channels," Steph told him. "I spent a lot of time trying to get into Corrine's head and mindset and, I don't know, I just have a feeling. That's all it is—a hunch. But I feel it's worth trying. However, I need a little more information."

"Shoot. Throw your questions at me, Curls."

"Corrine's Portuguese, right?" Steph asked.

"Her father emigrated from Portugal when he was a young man," Chase confirmed. "Our mom was Irish, but I doubt if Corrine knew or even cared about that."

"Okay. I got a sense from some of the people I talked to in the Ironbound that her father was really tied to the Portuguese community, to _being_ Portuguese. Do you think Corrine shared that same connection, that passion?"

Chase considered her question. "I'm not sure. But I dated a Portuguese girl before I met Sylvia and when she introduced me to her family, she said I was the first non-Portuguese man she'd ever brought home. And her family was very surprised and suspicious of me when they found out I was Irish and not Portuguese."

"So, you're saying you think most Portuguese Americans maintain close ties to their heritage?" Steph asked.

"That's been my impression. Corrine said she joined the Portuguese gang in her old neighborhood because it was expected of her, but I think she was trying to avoid falling into that same pattern when she came to live with us."

"Yeah, but was it the gang she was trying to avoid, or being identified as Portuguese?" Steph probed.

"The gang. Definitely," Chase said.

"That would jibe with what I've found. I thought, maybe, when she ran away that she might have returned to her gang, but I talked to the former gang leader, and he said that, after she moved, he never heard from her again. So, I don't think the gang life had that strong a hold on her. But I was wondering about her Portuguese heritage and how important that was."

"I'm not sure. When she first moved in, she rarely said a word to any of us. She'd just come home from school and lock herself in her room. Then, after school let out for the summer, she changed." Chase's eyes widened and he looked up suddenly. "Corrine went to summer school. I'd forgotten about that. She started taking some class at Eastside in June and she seemed happier. She even started spending more time downstairs with us. I remember her talking about Portuguese stuff like food and drink and celebrations, with pride. She even made us a special dinner on Portugal Day. She dressed up in a costume: a long-sleeved white blouse with a colorful jumper over it. I remember telling her she looked ridiculous, and she flipped me the bird." Chase grinned at the memory.

"So, she was proud of her heritage. What is Portugal Day and when is it?" Steph asked.

"It's in June. I can't remember the exact day. Corrine said it was a time to celebrate some historic figure from Portugal, but mainly, it's to honor their Portuguese heritage, I think."

Steph made a note of the event. "So, what are the chances that Corrine would have gravitated to another Portuguese community after she left here?"

"I don't know. She was really missing her father those last few weeks. Her grief seemed to catch up to her and overwhelm her. I don't know if that was why she left, but I know, by the end of summer she was really down. She was close to tears most of the time. Back then, I chalked it up to her being a teenage girl, but now, it seems it was more like grief and sadness. She had a framed picture of her and her dad, and those last weeks she had it out a lot. I know she took it with her, because we looked for it when we reported her missing, trying to find a recent picture of her."

"Okay, she was grieving for her father, but would that influence her to seek out other Portuguese communities?" Steph asked.

"Who knows? But it seems as good a shot as any," Chase said. "What do you have in mind?"

"When I talked with the leader of Corrine's Portuguese gang in the Ironbound District, he said many of the gang members came from other Portuguese American communities. They seem to be a tight-knit population. I did a little research, and most of the Portuguese communities are centered in this part of the country: New Jersey, New York, Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut. But there are also large populations in California and Hawaii, with much smaller concentrations scattered throughout the country."

Chase looked aghast. "How do you expect to find one little blonde needle in that large of a haystack? We don't even know if Corrine would have gone to live in a Portuguese community? Hell, we don't even know if she's still alive." Chase shook his head and then dropped his face in his hands, rubbing ferociously. "This is impossible. We're never going to know what happened to Corrine, let alone find her. And there's no guarantee that she's a match for Eric. I'm sorry I got you involved with this, Curls." He turned to look at Stephanie, waves of remorse, pain and anguish emanating from him.

Steph put her arm around his shoulders and squeezed. "Don't give up, Chase. I honestly think we are on to something here. I want to give it a try."

"Give what a try?" Chase asked, a frown marring his face.

"Road trip, baby, road trip." Steph sat back and smiled.

"You want to travel cross-country, searching the hundreds of little pockets of Portuguese neighborhoods that dot America?" he asked, incredulously.

"Give me a little more credit than that. I think Corrine hitchhiked out of Newark. You said she had no money, so she couldn't pay for transportation, so no buses, trains or planes. I think she left via Interstate 80 or 78 and went west. I think she would want to get away from this part of the country as fast as possible. Look at her: she was miserable and everything that made her miserable was here. I think she just wanted to get away, to blend in, to disappear. That's what I would have done. I say we follow those interstates and stop at places that seem likely, concentrating on regions that have high populations of Portuguese immigrants."

"We?" Chase looked quizzically at her.

"Well, me," she clarified.

"I couldn't let you go alone. I'm going with you," Chase told her.

"What about Eric, and your wife?"

"If we find Corrine, we have to convince her to get tested and then, if she's a match, get her to come back with us. That's my job. She's my sister, my blood. When do we leave?"


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

 **Present Day New Jersey**

"When do we leave?" Chase had asked. Stephanie had told him two days. She figured it would take him that long to tie up any loose ends with his business and make sure his wife was onboard with the plan.

And two days would be long enough, hopefully, for her to get up the courage she needed to tell Ranger she was taking a trip with her former lover. She didn't know how he'd react, but she steeled herself to face strong opposition to her leaving. She worked hard and late into the night making sure she had all her ducks in a row. She re-researched all her previous leads. And again, they all came to dead ends. She texted with Chase several times and they developed a travel plan that was practical, and exciting. Tomorrow, she would tell Ranger. She thought he'd understand the practical part, but she was unsure of his response to the exciting part. He'd been okay with her looking for Chase's sister by internet search, but was that okay going to extend to a road trip?

With the details finalized, she turned her attention toward an unfinished task. She had twenty-four hours to concentrate on Julie's room. Julie would be arriving to spend the summer with them soon, and Stephanie wanted to make sure the room decorating was well underway before she and Chase began their search. Ranger was going to be hit with a lot of information and have only a day to deal with it before she left. If there were conflicts between them about her actions, at least it would be short-lived as she'd be leaving the day after he learned of her plans. On the one hand, it was kind of a cowardly way to deal with the situation, but on the other hand, it was more notice than he'd ever given her when he went into the wind.

The next morning, Stephanie told Ranger she'd be working from home again. He had no objection, and as soon as he left for RangeMan she sprang into action. Lots to do and a short time to do it in.

Stephanie and Rachel had never talked much, but Rachel had always been friendly to her, probably because of Stephanie's role in returning Julie to Rachel after Scrog, so Stephanie didn't hesitate to call Rachel for information. She had been surprised, but helpful when Stephanie asked about Julie's interests. Goth. Julie was Goth. Stephanie hadn't even been aware that was still a thing, but now she realized it was the perfect thing.

Her doubts only lasted for a moment before she remembered Ranger's insistence that she could change any part of the house's décor that wasn't to her taste. While what she had planned for Julie's room wasn't her taste, it would be Julie's, she hoped. And it would certainly match the RangeMan color theme!

That evening, she tugged impatiently on Ranger's arm. "Put that mail down," she told him as he thumbed through the assorted envelopes on the sideboard. "Dinner will be a little late tonight. I've kept Ella busy all day on other things and she's just now getting started in the kitchen. Come see what we've done. You're going to love it!"

Minutes later, Ranger stood in the doorway to what would be Julie's room, and Stephanie waited eagerly for his reaction.

"Babe."

Babe translated into several things depending on the inflection of Ranger's voice. This time it was shock, Stephanie was pretty sure. She'd been going for surprise at the very least, and she thought she'd achieved her goal. If he didn't like the room, that was okay, because this room wasn't about him. It was about Julie.

He stood silently in the doorway taking in the changes and, after a few moments, she asked, "What do you think?"

"I don't know what to think. I was expecting pink or maybe purple, but this…"

"This you didn't expect?" she asked and then answered her own question. "That's good! I want Julie to be surprised and if you are then she will be, too."

"But, Babe, this doesn't look like a little girl's room. It looks like … I'm not sure what it looks like."

"Julie isn't a little girl, Ranger. She's growing up, and Rachel said she's into Goth. This room is Goth, or it will be when it's finished. Let me show you." She pulled Ranger into the center of the room and blushed as his eyes looked down at the carpet where they'd made love a couple of nights earlier. It was now covered with a gray and black patterned area rug that extended almost wall to wall.

The walls were freshly painted by Louis, who'd gladly put off his planned garden maintenance to help with Julie's room. The color was charcoal gray which was just a shade darker than the gray in the carpet and a shade lighter than the gray-on-gray paisley drapes that pooled on the floor. The trim and doors had been painted black, and Stephanie thought they looked fine, but Louis was insistent they'd need another coat.

"Okay," Ranger said. "I'll give you the point that Julie isn't a little girl any longer, but she's way too young for Fifty Shades of Grey. And what are those?" he asked, pointing to a trio of framed prints leaning against the far wall.

"It's Goth, Ranger. I called Rachel and she told me what Julie liked. Those are prints of album covers by Goth bands. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, The Cure and Evanescence. I think we've got a great start on the room. I've ordered furniture, which will be delivered later this week. Louis is going to hang the prints tomorrow when the paint is completely dry. I still have to buy bedding and then when Julie comes I thought she and I could shop for accessories together."

"Stephanie." Her full name.

"You don't like it?"

"What I like is inconsequential. Rachel is sending Julie here for the summer because she's trying to separate Julie from potentially bad influences. You've just created a space for her that is reminiscent of what Rachel is trying to move her away from."

"So, you knew Julie was into Goth?" Stephanie asked. She was a little hurt that Ranger might have kept that information from her.

"I knew Rachel was concerned about the change in Julie's appearance, and with the new friends she's making. Both Rachel and Ron think it might be time for a change of scenery, that's why I agreed to have her here for the summer."

"You're worried that I am making this room into something that might remind her of what she left behind at home?"

"Yes."

"That's why this is great, don't you think?" She saw his perplexed frown form, and then slide away behind a blank expression. Ranger was trying to keep his thoughts hidden, but she understood him. He didn't want to disappoint her, but he thought she was way off base.

"It's just a stage she's going through," Stephanie said. "A harmless stage. What's wrong with black hair, pale makeup and funky clothes, and, well, a few piercings? We should encourage her. Don't you remember being her age? The surest way to push her further into this lifestyle is to tell her she can't be Goth!" Stephanie's voice had risen as she spoke, and she was surprised to find just how passionate she felt about what she'd said.

Ranger's blank face was gone. He was astonished. "What piercings?" he demanded to know. It was obvious he was remembering Julie as a much younger child.

"I don't know about the piercings," Stephanie said. "I was just guessing, but you're not concentrating on the important part. The important part is we will be accepting of Julie. We will provide a haven for her to explore her interests, and if we don't object to what she's doing, being a Goth might lose some of its appeal."

"And if we are non-confrontational, she won't try to hide things from us. Is that what you're thinking?" he asked.

"Yes," Stephanie said, happy that Ranger was beginning to understand her plan.

"I don't know, Babe. When I was a kid, my parents sent me to my abuela to straighten me out. She did it by putting the fear of God into me, not by being accepting of my behavior."

"She did it by giving you a safe place where you didn't have to deal with peer pressure. Where you could learn about your family's traditions, and where you were expected to live up to family standards of honesty and decency. And where you felt her unconditional love."

Ranger sighed. "You've been talking to my mother."

"Yup." She grinned at him and was gratified to see his grin in return. He pulled her into a tight hug.

"You think this room shows Julie unconditional love?" he asked.

"It shows her our acceptance of her," Stephanie said. "I know what happens when you shut down a kid's wants without even trying to understand their needs."

"She shinnies down the drainpipe to break free?" Ranger asked.

"Yeah, she does. And she loses her virginity on the floor of the Tasty Pastry, behind the éclair case to the guy she's been warned to stay away from."

"I hope that event ... well, I hope that _never_ happens to Julie, but, if it does, I hope it is many, many years in her future," Ranger grumbled. "C'mon, let's go check on dinner." He pulled her from the room and took one long last look at the dark interior before they made their way downstairs.

They ate dinner quietly. Stephanie played her forthcoming conversation over in her mind while she ate. She was leaving the next day, and she'd yet to tell Ranger. What would she do if he said no? He wouldn't keep her prisoner. He couldn't stop her from going, but he might ask her not to go. She wasn't sure what she would do then. Finding Chase's sister was very important to her, and she had a strong feeling that exploring the Portuguese communities was their best chance of finding her. That would have to be done in person. There was no other way.

She was toying with her dessert, and didn't notice Ranger intently watching her not eat the cheesecake. She played and replayed the upcoming scenario in her mind when she would tell Ranger about Chase and the trip they were taking. Her concentration was so deep she almost missed his question. Almost.

"When are you leaving, Babe?"

She set her fork next to the plate and looked him in the eyes. "What?" She'd heard him, but surely he couldn't be referring to what she'd been thinking about. That would be an amazing feat of ESP, even for him.

"I asked when you were leaving," he repeated.

"You know?"

"I know. I've been waiting for you to tell me."

"How did you know? Did someone tell you?"

"I called Chase to ask him to clarify some of the information he gave us about his sister," Ranger said. "I know you said you'd come to a dead end, but I thought it wouldn't hurt for another set of eyes to look. He told me that the two of you were going to investigate some of the Portuguese communities. He said that you have a feeling about doing so."

"I was going to tell you," she said. "What did you tell Chase?"

"I told him that I'd learned to never discount your 'feelings'," Ranger said. "So, I ask again. When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow." The answer hung in the air between them for a moment. She saw the slight rise of Ranger's eyebrows, but he made no other comment.

"The time is getting short," Stephanie explained. "Chase's son is getting weaker and weaker. We need to find Corrine."

"I can make a fleet vehicle available for you," Ranger said.

"I won't need one," she said, and then on an exhale, continued. "We're taking bikes. Chase is loaning me one and outfitting me. His shop carries riding apparel."

Ranger was quiet for quite a while. Here it comes, Stephanie thought. He'd forbid her to go, and then what would she do?

"I'd like you both to wear trackers," he said. "Make sure you see Tank before you go. He'll get you connected." Ranger stood from the table and walked to her chair. He held out his hand. "Let's make good use of the time we have left before you go." She stood and lifted her face for his kiss, but then she pulled back.

"Wait. That's it? That's the only reaction you have to me leaving on a cross-country bike trip with an old lover? You're not upset? You don't care?" She was mystified. She'd given thought to every possible reaction he might have had, but calm acceptance wasn't one of the scenarios she'd imagined.

"Babe. As your boss, I trust that you won't leave your job at RangeMan undone. I checked and it seems you have those bases covered. As your husband, I trust that you wouldn't be doing this unless you felt strongly that you had to. What reaction would you have me exhibit?"

"I don't know, exactly," she admitted. "I know what Morelli would have said. And I can't imagine my father ever allowing my mother to go off without him. I don't know what I thought you'd say."

"I'm not Morelli." He leaned in to nuzzle her neck. "And I'm _not_ your father. And just an hour ago you explained to me how important it was to be accepting of Julie … to allow her to explore her interests rather than to forbid her to pursue her Goth tendencies. It occurred to me that maybe you were talking about more than just Julie."

Stephanie wrapped her arms around Ranger's neck and lifted her face for a kiss. "Let's start making good use of the time, like you suggested," she said.

He bent his lips to her ear. "And if you sleep with him, I'll know. And I'll kill him."


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

 **Present Day New Jersey and Pennsylvania**

Stephanie revved the throttle, just a little, thrilling to the feel of the bike pulsing under her. Chase had outfitted her with a Harley Softail Deluxe, a more powerful bike than the one she'd had when she'd worked at E.E. Martin, but they'd be traveling highways and long days, and the heavier bike would actually be easier on her over the long haul. She'd only been on a bike a few times since her mid-twenties when she owned her own motorcycle, but she hadn't forgotten all the tips Chase had taught her.

Her plan was for them to leave from the house Chase grew up in, the one that Corrine had run away from nearly eighteen years ago. The route had been planned out, all the way to California, but both she and Chase knew that plans could change, depending on tips they might receive along the way.

Steph felt that Corrine had left Jersey using one of the two main interstates heading west. The easiest route to access from the house was Interstate 80, so that was the one she chose to follow first. Corrine could have chosen to hide herself in one of the larger Portuguese enclaves scattered throughout New England which meant she would have gone north up Interstate 95, but Stephanie was convinced that Corrine's primary motivation was to get as far away from New Jersey as fast as possible, and that way was west.

Based on Stephanie's research, their first stop was going to be the Delaware Valley in Pennsylvania, which boasted more than 65,000 Portuguese-speaking residents. There were five towns in the region that could claim the status of being in the top 100 cities in the U.S. with the highest percentage of Portuguese populations. But when she got to Newark and talked to Chase, her plans changed.

"After you and I talked, I did some research on my own," Chase said. "There's a big Portugal Day celebration tomorrow in Philadelphia. If Corrine is in the area you're suggesting, we could go to the festival and circulate the sketch we now have of her and see if anyone's seen her. That might speed up our search."

Steph nodded. "Okay. We can do that. Philadelphia's not that far out of our way and, you're right. It might save us some time."

Stephanie had used her connections with the Trenton Police Department to get their forensic artist to sit down with Chase and sketch out a drawing of what Corrine might look like now at age thirty-five. She planned to show that sketch of Corrine to people they met along the way, hoping for clues, if not an actual lead to Corrine's whereabouts. But the sketch was only a guess of what Corrine would look like now. She could have totally changed her appearance, gained a lot of weight or had plastic surgery. Any way you looked at it, it was a crapshoot. Stephanie could only rely on her gut, but it had served her well in the past.

Chase and Steph took to the highway and made good time to Philadelphia. They got a couple of hotel rooms and then scouted out the festival site. People were setting up booths and installing a music stage and dance platform. Since the festival didn't start until the next day, it was a good time to query the organizers and crafts people. They went booth to booth, showing the sketch of Corrine and asking if anyone had seen her. No one had. Tomorrow, they would talk to the hundreds of people who came to celebrate Portugal Day.

Back in her room, she called Ranger. His familiar "Yo," caused a stir of emotions. Comfort at hearing the calm sound of him and longing at the distance between them.

"Hey," she answered. "I just called to give you an update. We're in Philadelphia."

"I know."

"Oh, well, of course you do. The trackers."

"Yes, the trackers. I didn't plan to follow your every move," he told her. "I wanted to ensure that we could get to you if you needed us, but it's a bonus for me, personally, to know where you are at any given time."

She smiled, knowing his need to be in control of any situation. "I miss you," she told him. She no longer rankled at wearing trackers, as long as she knew about them. It was one of the compromises of marriage to Ranger.

"Back at you, Babe," he said. "How's the search going?"

"Not so good, so far," Stephanie said. "We're in Philly because there is a big Portugal Day celebration tomorrow. We thought it would be a good time to show Corrine's picture around. We showed it to the vendors and festival organizers today, but got no hits. Tomorrow, we'll do the same with the participants. Chase is getting a little down."

"How about you?" Ranger asked. "Do you still have high hopes of finding her?"

"I don't know about high hopes," Stephanie said. "I just have this feeling that we shouldn't give up yet."

"I've been going over your research," Ranger told her. "I thought maybe another set of eyes would pick up on something."

"Did you find anything?" she asked, the hope making her voice rise a little.

He hesitated. "Not yet, but I haven't finished looking at everything. So far, I haven't seen that you missed anything. You're good at this sort of thing."

They talked for a while longer, both enjoying the sound of each other's voice. They disconnected with Stephanie's promise to keep him informed.

The next day, Steph and Chase talked to the hundreds of people who came to celebrate Portugal Day. No one recognized the sketch of Corrine. Disappointed but not defeated, Stephanie and Chase continued with their plan of visiting the five Pennsylvania towns that had the highest populations of Portuguese-speaking residents. The towns were all small, and finding the key places to ask their questions and show Corrine's sketch was easy. The post office, the grocery store, the local bar and/or restaurant. It took two days to visit all five towns on Stephanie's list, but they finally got a hit on Corrine's sketch in the fifth town. Roseto, located in the Lehigh Valley, had a population of less than 2,000 of which four percent were of Portuguese descent, according to the last U.S. census.

They followed up on the lead and found the grocery store where the woman was reported to be working as a cashier. Chase grabbed a couple of cans of Coca-Cola and got in line to be checked out. He had time to study the woman before it was his turn. As he waited for her to ring up his purchase, he glanced over at Stephanie and gave a small shake of his head. It wasn't Corrine. She was a slender blonde woman and the right age, but that was as far as the likeness went. He handed Steph one of the Cokes and, with drooping shoulders, went outside. Steph followed him to their bikes. They both cracked open their Cokes and took long swigs.

"Okay, this first lead didn't pan out, but we still have lots of possibilities to check out," Steph told him. "I didn't expect to find Corrine this close to home."

"We've put in all this effort and only got one lead. I don't think this idea of yours is going to work. It was an impossible task to begin with," said a dejected Chase.

"Don't give up. We've only been at this a few days."

Chase lifted his gaze to meet hers. "She could be anywhere, Curls," Chase complained. "We could search hundreds of towns and still not find her. And we keep avoiding the other very real possibility: Corrine could be dead. She could have died eighteen years ago, and we'll never know." He finished his Coke and tossed it at a nearby plastic trash can. It missed its mark. Chase swung his booted foot at the trash can, and it skittered off the sidewalk nearly knocking over Steph's bike. "We're _never_ going to know," he cried out, anguish evident in his voice and in his tense posture.

"Don't," Steph pleaded. "Don't go there, Chase. There's always the possibility we won't find her, but I refuse to believe it, especially not this early in the game. I'm thinking California is a good bet. Corrine could have hitched a ride with a cross-country trucker who took her all the way to the west coast. The Oakland area has an extremely high concentration of people of Portuguese ancestry. What do you say, Chase?" Steph reached over and shook his shoulder. "Are you up for the long haul? California or bust?"

Chase could only nod.

 **Present Day New Jersey**

Ranger Mañoso didn't believe in coincidences. He hadn't been all that surprised when he discovered the connection. He'd known there was something more to Chase's story, but it wasn't until he saw it in print that he realized his unlikely connection to Chase. He was still struggling with the concept that Chase didn't know, but he didn't think the man had a clue. No one did, except him, so it had to be a coincidence, Chase's coming to find Stephanie. There was no other explanation. But it still grated on his sense of the rational.

Stephanie thought he had ESP. He did not. When she accused him of reading her mind it always amused him. She was guilelessly transparent to anyone who took the time to look, and he always took the time. If anyone had ESP, it was Stephanie. Her instincts were finely honed and he'd learned early on in their friendship, to never overlook her "spidey sense."

Her instincts had told her she needed to go on a road trip to find Chase's sister. The odds were against them, and yet he was waiting for the call that said they'd found her. Stephanie always proclaimed she had a healthy measure of pure dumb luck, but he thought it was something more. Intuition. ESP. He didn't know what label to put on it, but he believed in her and her ability. If he hadn't she wouldn't be on an insane, potentially futile cross-country bike trip. He trusted her as well. She wouldn't sleep with Chase. If Chase made moves in that direction, Ranger wouldn't kill him as he'd promised Stephanie. But he'd hurt him. He thought that was an unlikely scenario. Chase loved his wife and son. It was obvious.

His news, his connection to this case, would come as a surprise to Stephanie, if and when he told her. He didn't think there had to be full disclosure to make a marriage work. Honesty was important though, so if it came to it he would tell her. Otherwise, it would be relegated to the part of his life that was undiscussed. All he could do was wait and see if they found Corrine…and then he would know what path to take.

He'd contacted Chase's wife, Sylvia. It seemed appropriate since his wife was traveling with her husband. She was a nice woman, completely overwhelmed with the illness of her son. Ranger helped her in the only way he could think. He contacted Ella, who contacted her niece, Marisol. Marisol was going to help Sylvia take care of the day-to-day problems that arose, including housekeeping, so Sylvia could concentrate fully on her son. Both Ranger and Sylvia hoped that Stephanie and Chase would be back soon, and even though his news would be a surprising revelation to Stephanie, Ranger hoped they found her. Finding her wouldn't guarantee Eric's cure, but it would be a big step along the way.

Ranger sat at his desk and looked at the picture he'd come across when he'd gone through Stephanie's research and her files on Corrine Silva. The picture was from an old high school yearbook and the one the police had used in her missing poster. He remembered the summer he'd spent with her, though he hadn't known her as Corrine. It had ended abruptly when his hijinks had turned more serious, and his parents had intervened in a drastic way and sent him to Miami. The change to his life was so great that he hadn't given a second thought to that part of his life, to a young girl who had once been so important to him. No, he hadn't thought about Wren in a long, long time.

Back then, he'd been occupied with surviving in Miami, and a world much different than the one he'd been used to, and hiding the fact that he was terribly homesick. He suspected his abuela knew he was missing his mother, father and siblings, but had wisely refrained from mentioning it. She was his savior. Small, ancient, but wise. She'd taught him so much. He closed his eyes for a moment and mourned her. It had been years, but every once in a while it seemed a still present loss. And today was one of those days. She would have loved Stephanie. He was sure of that.

The phone jarred him into the present. He hoped for a moment that it was Stephanie and then realized it wasn't her ringtone. He looked at the caller ID. Rachel.

"Hello." His greeting was formal. He and Rachel got along well, but their relationship was businesslike. He had no desire to make it other than that, even if he was getting ready to take a more active role in Julie's life.

"Hello, Carlos. Is it a good time to talk?" she asked.

"Yes. You sound upset. Is there trouble?"

"Yes," she answered on a sob. As she spoke he could hear the strain and he knew she was trying to hold back tears. "Julie is in trouble. She was spending the night with her friend Melissa and they snuck out of the house. Melissa's mother thought they were in Melissa's room."

"Is there a drain pipe outside Melissa's window?"

"What?"

"Nothing," Ranger said. "I was just thinking out loud. Continue."

"They went to a party with some older kids and … and …they smoked pot."

"Weed," Ranger corrected. "It's commonly referred to as weed these days."

"I'm so glad she's coming to you," Rachel said. "You know so much about that sort of thing."

"I know very little about drug usage, Rachel." He was terse. He could sense she was nearing hysterics, and he had no desire to deal with her in that mode.

"What happened?" he continued. "Did Melissa's mother find them?"

"Much worse," she said. "There were older kids, boys, at the party." Ranger's mouth tightened. "They had alcohol and drugs, but they weren't old enough. The police came and people were arrested."

"Julie was arrested?" he asked, upset, and yet relieved. When Rachel had said _older boys_ his mind had gone another direction.

"No. When she saw what was happening, she grabbed Melissa and they hid in a utility closet, next to the water heater. The police didn't find them. When everyone was gone, they came out, but they were seen by the parents of the boy having the party. They got away and ran back to Melissa's house, and Melissa confessed everything to her mother."

Ranger smiled. He should have been upset, and if he were in Rachel's position, he would have been upset. Julie had no business partying with older boys and smoking weed, but when the shit had hit the fan, she'd kept her head and saved not only herself but her friend. He felt a little spark of parental pride. She was a quick thinker who kept her head in a bad situation. He already knew that from the Scrog ordeal, but this reaffirmed his knowledge of her.

"Are you listening to me?" Rachel asked. He hadn't been.

"Sorry," he said.

"I said, Julie needs to come up now instead of in a couple of weeks like we planned. She's out of school and she needs to get out of town. It's just a matter of time until someone remembers they were at the party and turns them in. If she's not here it will be much harder to prove."

"It's not possible," Ranger said. "Stephanie is out of town and won't be back for a while. We've recently moved and Julie's room is not quite finished. Can't you keep her at home and out of the public eye?"

"Carlos, please! Ron has just about reached the limits of his patience with her. I don't want her to get into trouble with the police. Surely your mother can help? I've never asked for your help, but I need it now. I've got Julie booked on the afternoon flight tomorrow."

Ranger was silent for a moment, considering. His mother would love to see Julie. As for never asking him for help, Rachel hadn't. But then he'd been proactive in giving her the financial support she needed. Her statement about Ron being at his limits bothered him. Rachel and Ron had children of their own, but he'd always had the impression Ron had treated Julie as his own. Now he was wondering if that was true.

He was surprised to hear himself asking for flight particulars. It seemed Julie was coming earlier than planned. He hadn't any idea of how to deal with a young girl testing her wings, but it was apparent he was going to have to learn, and learn fast.

He disconnected with Rachel and called Stephanie. Her voicemail picked up, and he left a message. "I need to talk to you, ASAP." He then texted the same message to her.

 **Present Day Pennsylvania and Ohio**

Stephanie's phone dinged and vibrated against her hip. A voice mail. A few seconds later it chimed a different tone and once again vibrated in her pocket. A text and a voice mail, or maybe the other way around. She got the sounds confused. In any case, someone wanted to talk to her. They pulled into the parking slots in front of their adjacent motel rooms. She pulled off her helmet, and shook her hair loose before she turned to Chase. "Tomorrow, we'll head to Ohio. Are you on board?"

"Of course I am," he said. "I'm sorry I lost my temper at the grocery store. I was just so hopeful we'd find her, and then…"

"I know," she told him. "It was a disappointment. But it's early, yet. We have to look in as many places as we can. I know it seems sort of like a needle in a haystack, but stranger things have happened."

He leaned his head toward his room door. "You want to come in and hang out for a while?"

"No," she said. "I've got to call Ranger. And I could use some down time. We'll call it quits for the day and start fresh tomorrow, okay?"

Chase leaned across his bike and tugged at a wayward piece of her hair. "Okay, Curls. Fresh start tomorrow."

Stephanie closed her door behind her and hit the Batman icon on her speed dial.

He answered quickly and without his usual greeting. "Are you making progress?"

"If you count tracking down a lead that came to nothing, then we're making progress," she said. "What's up?"

"I just spoke with Rachel," he told her. "Julie's gotten herself in a little trouble and needs to make a quick exit from Miami. I'm picking her up at the airport tomorrow. When will you be back?"

"Oh, darn!" Stephanie said. "I really wanted to be there when Julie came. I don't know when we will be back. We're headed to Ohio tomorrow, and if nothing pans out in Ohio … then we have to go to California."

"You're planning on riding to California?" His voice was soft … too soft, Stephanie realized. He might have agreed with the plan on the surface, but she'd sensed from the beginning he'd had some unvoiced reservations.

"A little boy's life depends on it," she said. "We have to go."

"I've met Sylvia and talked with her about Eric. Wouldn't it be more time effective to return home and then fly to the west coast. You're not on a pleasure trip. And you can palm off your RangeMan duties for only so long."

He hadn't raised his voice. It hadn't been necessary. She understood exactly what he was saying. _Julie's here, Babe. I need you._ And the truth was, she missed him like crazy. Riding across the country had seemed like a sensible thing before they'd started. It would give them the freedom to alter their agenda and take whatever winding paths the leads they were sure to get would send them down. Now that they'd been at it for a while, she'd started to reconsider.

"We've got a stop to make in Ohio," she told Ranger. "You're right about the time factor. I'll talk to Chase. If we strike out in Ohio, we'll head home and regroup before we try California."

"That sounds reasonable, Babe."

"I'm sorry I'm missing Julie's arrival," she said. "Her room isn't done, but she can still sleep there. We'll finish it up when I get back. Tell her I'm sorry to miss her, and … give her my love."

"What about me? Aren't you going to give me your love?" Ranger asked.

"The minute I get home," she said, smiling. "And you can give me yours, too, as many times as you want!"

...

The next day, Steph and Chase left Pennsylvania and continued west on Interstate 80. By late afternoon, they made it just past Cleveland, Ohio, to a small farming community called Kipton. Kipton was on Steph's list of the top 100 U.S. towns with the highest percentage of Portuguese-speaking inhabitants. It was the last town on the list until they hit California, so probably they'd be heading back to Trenton the next day. Stephanie had discussed Ranger's suggestion to fly to California with Chase and he'd readily agreed. She thought he was missing Sylvia and Eric, and maybe seeing them would reinvigorate his commitment to find his half-sister.

They stopped by Kipton's tiny post office, but it was past 4 p.m. and the office was closed for the day. They drove through the small town, but there was nothing except farms and private homes. Tired from the long straight drive, they continued on to Huron, a touristy town on the shores of Lake Erie, where they could find accommodations for the night. According to Steph's online research, the one thing Huron had going for it was Mulligan's Pub, which featured Portuguese food. To Stephanie, it was worth a shot to pass Corrine's sketch around, but to Chase it was just a place to fill up his stomach and drown his gloominess in beer.

The waitress approached their booth, pad and pencil in hand. "What can I get you?" she asked.

Steph and Chase looked up from their menus.

"Oh my God!" Stephanie exclaimed.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

 _ **Eighteen years ago in New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Ohio**_

 _Cars kept whizzing by, but none stopped. Corrine was in the middle of nowhere, with only trees surrounding her. If she'd known hitchhiking would be so difficult, she may have done things differently, but without any money, she really had no choice. She only had forty-eight dollars to her name and she needed that for food. She'd thought she could make it to California in a week, where she could get a job waitressing or something. But that thought flew out the window the first day._

 _Her first day hitching had only got her as far as Rockaway, twenty-five miles west of Newark. She hadn't even gotten out of New Jersey. She stuck her thumb out for every car that passed, and she even forced herself to smile, but the cars just whizzed on by. When a vehicle finally would stop to give her a ride, they would only be going as far as the next town. At that rate, it would take her two years to reach California._

 _Since she didn't have enough money for a motel room, she'd devised her own plan for getting a safe night's sleep. Her ruse had worked well for her first night. When the family who'd picked her up in Denville dropped her off at the Rockaway turnoff, Corrine had walked a half-mile to the Hampton Inn, just off Interstate 80. It was already nine at night and she was exhausted._

 _She entered the lobby of the Hampton Inn and stopped at the registration desk. "Has Tomas Silva checked in yet?" she asked._

 _The clerk studied the monitor in front of him and replied, "No, I'm sorry. No one by that name is registered with us. Would you like a room?"_

 _Corrine shook her head and frowned. "Tom Silva is my father. We were supposed to meet here for the night. I don't know what could be keeping him," she said, glancing around at the comfortable looking sofas and chairs. "Can I wait here in the lobby for him?" The clerk nodded and went back to whatever he'd been doing before she came in._

 _Corrine chose one of the overstuffed chairs in the corner of the lobby that was out of sight from the clerk. She made herself comfortable and tried to fall asleep. She didn't know how much time she might have before the clerk got suspicious and started questioning her. A few hours of sleep was better than none._

 _She'd gotten a ride out of Rockaway early the next morning with a family. That was the good news. The bad news was that they were going to the Land of Make Believe, an amusement park still in Jersey. They dropped Corrine off on the frontage road. She was stuck on the wrong side of an interchange in the middle of nowhere. She finally got a ride toward the end of the day that took her as far west as Stroudsburg. At least she'd made it as far as Pennsylvania. It was her third day of hitchhiking._

 _Three more days passed and, after many short, disappointing rides, she made it as far as the outskirts of Youngstown, Ohio. She only had forty-two cents left. She knew she had to stop hitching and get a temporary job, just so she could eat. She also hadn't had a shower in over a week. At least she'd been able to change into clean clothes every few days. To say she was discouraged was an understatement._

 _Corrine didn't allow herself to dwell on what she'd left behind. She couldn't, wouldn't go back. But she had to be realistic, and she knew she had to earn some money, and soon. As she debated whether to make her way into nearby Youngstown and look for a job, a semi-trailer truck stopped and waited for her on the shoulder. Well, the truck would take her farther west and to another town. She readjusted her backpack and ran to the truck._

 _As Corrine clambered up into the passenger seat, she asked, "How far are you going?"_

 _The truck driver, an older man with graying hair, told her, "To Cleveland. I've got a load to deliver and then tomorrow, I pick up another load and drive back to New York. That's the yoyo life of a trucker." He chuckled as he motioned for her to shut her door and then he started shifting through the truck's gears as he reentered the interstate._

 _In the next hour and a half, the two of them made small talk, with Corrine asking the trucker lots of questions about his job, mainly to keep the focus off of her. She learned about the trucking business and the life of a trucker. While it sounded fun to drive around the country and see new places, it also sounded lonely and boring._

 _The miles flew by as they talked and Corrine realized how lucky she'd been with regard to the people who'd given her rides. None of them had harassed her or grilled her about why she was hitchhiking. She didn't know what she would tell anyone if they did ask. She'd left a home that was safe and warm, a family that gave her three meals a day, that hadn't abused her. How did she put into words her despair, her grief, her feelings of being alone in the world? That staying in New Jersey was impossible? She didn't think others would understand her need to leave, to put her past far, far behind her. So, she didn't talk about it and tried very hard not to think about it. Her school counselor had been a big advocate of "living in the moment." Well, that was as good a philosophy as any, so Corrine embraced it._

 _And right now, she was hungry and had no money, so her first priority was to get a job. She knew that probably meant flipping burgers at some fast food joint, but that was okay. She could do that for a few weeks. At least she could eat for free and save all the money she earned for the long trip to California. But, she didn't have enough money to pay for a motel room, and how could she work if she was living on the streets, unable to take a shower or wash her clothes?_

 _In Cleveland, the trucker pulled into the parking lot of the transportation company he worked for. He turned the keys over to the loaders and, at Corrine's request, let her use the company's bathroom. When Corrine came out of the building and walked across the parking lot to say goodbye to the trucker, she noticed there was an empty flatbed truck parked next to the semi truck. The flatbed truck had the name of its company, Kipton Quarry, emblazoned across the doors and along the sides of the truck. Kipton! That name triggered a memory for Corrine. She remembered Rosana, her best friend from the Ironbound gang she'd belonged to. Rosana had told her that she was from Kipton, Ohio. And Rosana had moved back home just before Corrine's father had died._

 _"Thanks for the ride. I learned a lot about the trucking business," Corrine told the trucker. She gestured to the flatbed truck. "How far away is Kipton?"_

 _The trucker glanced over at the truck. "Kipton is about 40 miles southwest of here. The quarry ships its products through the transport company I work for."_

 _"A friend of mine lives in Kipton. I'm thinking of visiting her. Do you think the driver would give me a ride?" Corrine's mind was racing. Would she be able to find Rosana, and would Rosana help her out?_

 _"Here he comes. Let's ask him," the trucker replied._

 _A man dressed in faded jeans and a blue chambray shirt was walking toward them. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties, tall and rangy. He had dark brown hair and brown eyes. He was nice-looking, more rugged than handsome._

 _As he approached, the trucker held out his hand and asked, "Just drop off a load?" The other man nodded and the two men shook hands. "This young lady is interested in going to Kipton. If you're driving back there, she could use a ride."_

 _"Sure, they've finished offloading the sandstone, so I'm headed back right now," the other man said, giving Corrine the once over. "Why do you want to go to Kipton? There's not much there but farms and the quarry."_

 _Corrine replied, "A friend of mine lives there." She was a little nervous about riding with a man his age. Most of the people she'd ridden with had been married couples, families or much older men. But he had a kind face and Corrine didn't get any bad vibes from him. She'd just have to trust her gut._

 _"Okay. Hop in and let's get on the road," he said._

 _Corrine thanked the trucker again and shouldered her backpack as she walked around to the passenger side of the flatbed truck._

 _Before they pulled out of the parking lot, the man introduced himself. "I'm John Madrid." He didn't start the truck, he just looked at her._

 _After a few awkward seconds, she told him her name was Wren. She was determined not to say much else about herself. She was still afraid she would be sent back home._

 _"Wren, huh," he said. "You're the first Wren I've ever met."_

 _"Someone told me that even though wrens are small, they are tough," she said. "And they are adaptable. There's canyon wrens, marsh wrens, rock wrens, cactus wrens, even house wrens. No matter where they find themselves, they can survive. That's me."_

 _John turned his head and gave her an appraising look. "I can see that. But you're kinda young to be hitchhiking. It can be pretty dangerous, especially for a single girl."_

 _"I'm careful. Mainly, it's been families that I ride with," she replied, as a loud growling sound emanated from her stomach. She hadn't had anything to eat since the day before. Corrine covered her abdomen with her arm. To deflect his attention, she asked, "How long have you been driving a truck?"_

 _"I've been driving trucks for about eight years, but I only moved to Kipton and started working for the quarry about three months ago, so I don't know too many people there yet. What's your friend's name?"_

 _"Her name's Rosana Costa. Do you know her?"_

 _John shook his head. "I know the last name, though. The quarry employs several stone masons and two of them are named Costa." He seemed to be the talkative type, so Corrine did her best to keep the conversation focused on him. "What kind of quarry is it?" She looked over her shoulder at the empty bed of the truck. They quickly left the city and entered farm country._

 _"It's a sandstone quarry."_

 _"Sandstone, huh?" Corrine said. "What do you do with sandstone?"_

 _Grinning, John launched into the company's sales pitch. "Sandstone can be used for a multitude of things. At the Kipton Quarry, they mine some of the finest building stone in the country, both blocks and slabs. The sandstone is also used for landscaping and for erosion barriers around lake shores. And they take specialty orders for carved trim stone for things such as tables, benches and pedestals. That's what I hauled today. After the stone masons get done carving the fancy designs and beveled edges that the contractors want, I deliver the finished product, ready for installation. The stuff is really quite attractive."_

 _"I didn't know there were so many uses for a bunch of rocks," Corrine said, letting a smile show through. Her stomach growled loudly again. She crossed both arms over her midsection and asked, "Do you enjoy working there?"_

 _John reached into the console and pulled out a bag of beef jerky. He handed it to her as he said, "Yeah, I like the work. I get to drive this truck, but I also get to drive several other vehicles at the quarry. Operating forklifts, skid-steer loaders and cranes are all part of my job. I like the diversity."_

 _"I've only done waitressing. It would be fun to learn how to drive a forklift or a big truck like this one. But I'm in desperate need of a job and my only skills are waiting on tables and washing dishes. Maybe, one day..." she said wistfully._

 _Corrine kept asking John questions about his job and about the town of Kipton while she munched on the jerky, thankful for the snack. She was surprised when they turned onto a dirt road. There'd been no sign marking the road, and they hadn't passed through a town. "Are we close to Kipton?" she asked._

 _John laughed. "Yep. We're at the quarry. Kipton is a mile or so that way." He pointed back toward the paved road they'd just left. He parked the truck near a group of sheds and climbed down. Corrine followed suit. "My personal truck is back at the office," he told her. "Let's walk over there and let me clock out and then we can look for your friend."_

 _They walked back down the dirt road and crossed over the paved road to an office building. There were two vehicles parked along the side. He held the front door open for her and as soon as they entered, they were greeted enthusiastically by a middle-aged woman._

 _"John, darling, you're a sight for sore eyes. I didn't expect you back until later tonight. I thought you'd stay in Cleveland and paint the town red," the woman chortled. She was a tiny woman, barely five feet, but she had a large personality. Her light brown hair was starting to show gray, but the large hoop earrings dominated, as did her toothy grin. She hadn't stopped smiling since they'd entered. "Who's this pretty little thing?" she asked, jutting her chin at Corrine._

 _"Wren, this is Mary Oliveiras, our office manager. Mary, this is Wren..." he said, looking inquisitively at her. "You didn't tell me your last name."_

 _Corrine smiled when she heard Mary's last name. It was definitely a Portuguese surname. She stepped forward and shook Mary's hand. "It's nice to meet you. John was kind enough to give me a ride. I have a friend living in this area. Maybe you know her? Rosana Costa?"_

 _"Ah, the Costas. I know all the Costas. We're related. But Rosana and her family aren't here any more. They moved back home last spring."_

 _Corrine looked puzzled. "I thought Kipton was Rosana's home. She said this is where she grew up."_

 _Mary laughed. She had a deep throaty laugh and a kind face. "Rosana did grow up here, but they moved back to Portugal. That's considered home by many of Portuguese descent."_

 _"Oh." Corrine's heart fell. She'd come here for nothing. Now, she had to find a way back to the city, because it sure didn't look like there were any jobs for her here unless she was a farmer._

 _"How do you know Rosana?" Mary asked. She studied Corrine, taking in her tired appearance, rumpled clothes and bulging backpack._

 _"We were friends in New Jersey. Best friends," Corrine told her. "But I lost touch with her when she moved."_

 _Mary nodded knowingly. "Rosana's mother is from Portugal and she could never get used to living here. There are quite a few Portuguese Americans here in Kipton because of the quarry, which is why Rosana's family came here in the first place. Her father is a stone mason, and like many of the Portuguese men here, he comes from generations of stone masons. My husband Manny is a mason and works for the quarry, too. He is Rosana's father's cousin." Mary laughed. "We are all related in one way or another."_

 _"Sounds like the Ironbound, where I'm from," Corrine said._

 _"Well, you know what they say," Mary laughed, "You know you're Portuguese when_ _every person you've ever introduced to your husband, is a relative of yours._ _" Corrine chuckled, but John just looked perplexed. Mary continued, "Rosana's father kept trying to make his wife feel more comfortable in the States. That's why they moved to Newark. There's a much bigger Portuguese community there than here, but even that wasn't good enough. She was so homesick, they finally just picked up and moved back to the old country."_

 _John put his hand on Corrine's shoulder. "I'm sorry you came all this way. And I'm sorry I can't drive you back to Cleveland today. In fact, my work schedule's got me here to the end of the week. I'd offer you to bunk at my house, but..." He looked a little embarrassed._

 _Mary piped up, "Don't worry about it. John's a bachelor and he doesn't want anyone getting the wrong idea, do you, John?" Mary chuckled. "You can stay with us, Wren. My husband won't mind. In fact, it'd be nice to have a young person around the house again." Mary grew quiet for a moment, but then shook herself and smiled at Corrine. "It's closing time. Let me lock up and then we can go. Is that all you have?" she asked, jutting her chin at the backpack Corrine had let settle to the floor beside her._

 _"Yeah, I'm traveling light." Corrine hoisted the backpack to her shoulder. "It's okay. I'll just hitch back to the city. I don't want to put you out."_

 _Mary blew out a noisy breath. "You aren't putting us out. And you'll never get a ride at this time of day. We're a farming community here. Early to rise, early to bed. No one's traveling anywhere tonight. Please, come home with me. It'll be nice to have someone to talk to. Manny's not much of a conversationalist."_

 _"Well, that's settled then," John stated. He grinned at Corrine. "This way you'll get a great home-cooked meal and a soft bed. All's I could offer is more beef jerky and a lumpy sofa."_

 _"Thanks for the ride," Corrine said. "And thanks for putting me up for the night, Mary. I'll try not to be any trouble."_

 _"No trouble at all," Mary said, turning off her computer and gathering up her purse. She shut off the lights and ushered everyone outside while she locked the front door. "That's my car," she said, pointing to the candy apple red Malibu parked next to the Chevy pickup truck that John was heading toward._


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

 **Present Day New Jersey**

He'd thought about taking Tank with him, but had decided against it. Julie was his responsibility, and he wasn't one to shirk his duties, but he was nervous. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this nervous. When Julie had been abducted by Scrog, he'd moved heaven and earth to get her back. He'd sacrificed himself by knowingly walking into an ambush, and he'd been calm about it. He'd felt connected to Julie in a way he previously hadn't, but he hadn't had much contact with her since then. After he'd been shot, he saw her only briefly before Rachel had hustled the kid away from Trenton and back to Miami.

He didn't know his own daughter at all, but that was all going to change. What if she didn't like him? Hell, she had to like him. Kids had to like their fathers, right? Oh shit! He was in trouble. He realized that while he'd been immersed in self-doubt, passengers had started deplaning.

Two men in suits walked through the gate, followed by two tall and extremely thin women dressed fashionably in short skirts and high heels. Business class was exiting first. Harried salesmen followed by statuesque models. A third model, with short dark spiky hair hurried to catch up to her friends. His attention turned toward the entrance where a very pregnant mother was waddling her way into the arrival lounge. She was followed by an elderly couple holding hands and gazing adoringly at one another. Septuagenarian honeymooners, maybe. Julie must have been seated at the back of the plane. He kept his eyes on the door and waited for her, ignoring his increasing nervousness. He'd been to hell and back in his life. He could, he would, handle this.

"Dad … uh, Ranger." The words were uttered simultaneously with a soft pull on his sleeve. He looked to see the third model, the one with the short spiky blue-black hair, and holy mother of … it was Julie!

"I waved at you," she told him, "but you didn't see me. You were looking behind me at the door."

"I saw you earlier," Ranger said. "I didn't recognize you. You've changed since we were last together."

He let his eyes slide downward and take in his daughter. Puberty had hit her hard. She'd have easily passed for twenty-three instead of thirteen. Her body had lost all vestiges of the little girl he'd last seen. She was tall, even without the high-heeled ankle boots, and long-legged. Her body was firm and curved…and her curves showed clearly underneath the skin-tight black mini-dress she was wearing. Black hair, black dress, black tights, black boots. A face so pale, and lips so dark she should have looked like Vampira, but she didn't. The creaminess of her complexion showed through the almost white makeup. Her eyes were wide-set pools of warm brown, underneath arching brows. Her chin was determined, like his, he realized. She was beautiful, in spite of the heavy makeup and odd hair.

At first glance, she was a full-grown woman, but he noticed a slight tremble of her hand still on his arm and he relaxed. The young girl was still there, hidden behind a façade, not unlike the blank face he knew he was exhibiting. Things might work out after all.

"Where's Stephanie?" Julie asked. "I thought she'd come to meet me, too."

"She wanted to. She's away on a business trip. She should be home in a few days, hopefully. You're here a little earlier than we expected."

He'd said it without any criticism intended, but his daughter took umbrage with his words.

She raised her chin and managed to look down her nose at him. "Well, yes, I guess I am. Mother completely freaked out. There was no need to secret me out of town as if I was a criminal on the lam."

She talked older than thirteen, too. This was going to be an interesting summer. He might as well begin as he intended to go. "You broke the law. You were in danger of being arrested or, at the least, of being put on a watch list by the local police. Your mother acted, not over-reacted. And we are happy to have you. But there won't be any weed or alcohol while you're here."

He took her arm and began to walk toward the baggage claim area. "I trust you checked your bags?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she said.

It was only one word, but he thought he heard sullen. "Julie, I wasn't lecturing you. I was stating a fact. I can't allow you to do anything illegal. You are an extension of me, and I run a security business that frequently interacts with law enforcement. If you want to stay and be part of the family, you must obey the rules."

"Listen, Da... Ranger, I don't know what Mom told you, but I know you didn't get the straight story. I tried to tell her but she wouldn't listen. Ron was pissed, and all she wanted was to get me out of her hair."

Ranger took a careful look at his daughter. There was defiance in her voice, but hurt as well. This rift between Julie and Rachel was taking its toll on all involved. He would keep that in mind, but he also had to take responsibility as a father. "Are you saying you didn't smoke or drink after you snuck out to go to a party with older boys?"

"I'm not saying anything, until I'm sure you'll listen."

"I promise you, I'll listen," Ranger told his daughter. "Let's get your luggage, and you can tell me the entire story on the way home."

Twenty minutes later, the cargo space of the Cayenne was full and Julie was strapped into the passenger seat. As they pulled out of short-term parking, Ranger said, "I'm listening."

"Okay. I was spending the night with Melissa. It was her idea to go to the party because she has a huge crush on the guy that was having it, Jaime King. I didn't want to go, but I knew I had to, because she was going even if I stayed behind at her parents. There was alcohol and weed, and … way worse stuff, and I didn't have anything. Melissa got wasted. It was probably a good thing the party got busted. I pulled Melissa into the utility closet and told her to be quiet. I was worried, though, because she passed out and started snoring, and I was afraid someone would hear us. I propped her head up so she started breathing quieter and things were better after that."

Ranger again felt a little spurt of pride at his daughter's resourcefulness and loyalty to a friend, even if the friend was undeserving.

"Then we got out and ran back to Melissa's, and she caved and ratted us out to her mother. I told Mother and Ron I was innocent, but they didn't believe me. Do you?"

"I thought you called Ron Dad. When did that stop?"

"It stopped when he stopped treating me like a daughter and started treating me like an ugly stepchild. Do you believe me?" she asked again.

He was stunned by her words. He had more questions than he could formulate, but he refrained from asking her anything. "I believe you," he said, and realized he did, completely.

"Thanks, Da… Ranger." He looked across the car to see her looking at him with wet brown eyes. He hoped the tears wouldn't spill because he'd seen what tears did to Stephanie's mascara, and Julie's eye makeup was at least three coats heavier than Stephanie's usual look.

"Julie," he said without hesitancy or further thought. "Would you like to call me Dad?"

She nodded and sniffled once, before saying, "Yes, I would." This time when he looked, the eyes were still wet, but the grin was ear-to-ear and two hundred watts. This was going to be great. What had he been so worried about?

The Bluetooth signaled an incoming call and he pushed the button to answer. "Yo."

"You get Julie yet?" Tank's baritone boomed out of the car speaker.

"I did and you're on speaker. Say hi to Tank, Julie."

"Hello, Tank," she said obediently.

"Hey, kid. Long time no see. How'd you like to come to RangeMan and say hi? I need your dad to swing by here on his way home."

"RangeMan is not exactly on our way home," Ranger said. "What's up?"

"There is a courier here waiting on your signature to seal the Curtis deal. Can you swing by for just a moment? If not, I'll send him to your place."

"No. Don't do that. We'll be there within the hour." He disconnected and turned to Julie. "Do you mind stopping at RangeMan?"

"No, that would be great. It'll be interesting to see how it's changed from what I remember."

"It hasn't changed at all," Ranger said. "But it will be interesting to see what Tank thinks about the way you've changed since he last saw you." They exchanged grins.

An hour later, Ranger walked silently out of his office into the control room. He stopped short behind Lester and Cal who were staring across the room. Tank and Julie were standing with their backs to the men. Julie was bent slightly at the waist looking down at a row of monitors. Tank was giving her the nickel tour.

"Would you look at that," Lester said, his voice full of awe. "She's wearing black. She must be a new employee. And what an employee! Those legs go on forever and that tight a…"

Ranger's hand went around Lester's neck and squeezed, hard. He leaned forward and spoke loudly into Lester's ear, his voice easily traveling across the room. "Julie, do you remember Lester and Cal?" Julie swung around to look at her father. "And Santos, do you remember Julie, my daughter?"

"Oh shit!" Lester croaked. "Oh, shit, oh shit, I can't breathe." Ranger loosened his hold. "Oh, man … your little girl?" His voice had risen and Ranger took pleasure from the thread of hysteria he heard.

"Santos, did you hear that we are putting a man on site for the monitoring of the new contract on the geological site in Alaska?"

"Uh, no."

"Yeah, we'll need someone out there 24/7 for the first couple of weeks. Someone who will live in the hut and make sure all the monitors are up and running. It's a little remote, about eight hours to the nearest town. The pay will be excellent, though."

"You're kidding, right, Boss?"

"No."

 **Present Day Ohio**

"Excuse me?" the waitress said, her brows furrowing inward.

"I don't believe it," Chase exclaimed, rising up from the booth. "Corrine? Is it really you?"

The waitress's frown increased and she took a step back. "I'm sorry. You must have me mistaken for someone else."

"Your name's not Corrine Silva?" Chase questioned.

"No," she replied, looking warily at him. "My name's René Madrid."

"Are you sure? Of course you're sure," Chase blew out a breath. "I'm sorry. It's just that you look so much like her. So familiar. I was so sure..." Chase almost whispered, as he collapsed back down in his seat.

"Who did you think I was?" she asked a little tentatively.

"My sister," he said. "I'm desperate to find her. It's a matter of life and death."

"Oh." René stared at Chase a few seconds before saying, "I'm sorry I can't help you." She shifted from one foot to another. "Um, would you like something to drink before ordering dinner?"

"Yeah," Chase replied, despondently. "I'll have a beer. Whatever you have on draft." He leaned back in the booth and stared down at the table.

René turned to look inquiringly at Stephanie. "I'll have a Coke, please," Steph said. The waitress nodded and left. "I'm sorry, Chase. It's hard to get your hopes up and then have them dashed. I've had that sad experience many times, but that's all in the past. Now, I'm married to Ranger. He refuses to let any of my hopes get dashed. I'm lucky to have such a supportive husband."

"Yeah, you're lucky," Chase said, not very enthusiastically. "Where's my beer?" he asked, searching the restaurant for their waitress.

Steph rummaged in her handbag and pulled out one of the sketches of Corrine, just as René deposited a tall glass of Coke in front of her and Chase's beer in front of him. Steph handed her the sketch and asked, "Does she look familiar?"

René studied the sketch. "This is the woman you thought was me? There is some similarity, but no, I don't recognize her." She handed it back to Stephanie. "Are you ready to order?"

After they'd eaten dinner, paid the bill and were getting ready to leave, René approached them. "The woman you're looking for ... you said it was a matter of life or death? What did you mean by that?"

Chase looked uncomfortable. He was tired and dejected and not in the mood to talk about such an emotional subject with a stranger. Steph took over.

"The life and death matter involves his son," Steph told her, nodding at Chase. "His son is very sick and needs a bone marrow transplant. We're searching for his sister. His half-sister, actually. We're hoping she might be a donor match. It could save his son's life."

René glanced at Chase. "I'm so sorry."

Chase nodded and turned to go, but Stephanie stayed behind. She handed René the sketch again and implored, "Please keep this and show it around. We really need to find her. A little boy's life depends on it. My name is Stephanie and my number's on the back. If anyone recognizes her, please call me, immediately." Steph's hand closed around René's and she gave her hand a slight squeeze. "Time is of the essence." Steph hurried outside to catch up to Chase. They'd reached their motorcycles when they heard Chase's name being called.

"Chase, wait," René called out as she ran toward them.

Chase looked up, a frown on his face. "How'd you know my name? I don't think I introduced myself."

René stopped in front of them. "I know your name." She paused. "Just as you know mine. I'm Corrine."

"What?" cried Chase. "But..."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to deceive you. I've been without family for so long..."

"You are ... _Corrine_?" Stephanie exclaimed, as she moved closer to Chase. "Why did you deny it?"

René aka Corrine shook her head. "I've lived a lie for eighteen years. It's hard to shed it in an instant. You caught me off guard and reflex kicked in. But when you said your son was in trouble and needed my help...I'll do anything I can for him—for you. I'm so sorry, Chase."

Chase reached for her and they fell into each other's arms, tears flowing. Steph stood off to the side, tears also streaming down her face as she watched brother and sister reunite. After the first rush of emotion had passed, Corrine remembered she still had a few hours left to work on her shift. Reluctantly, they made plans to continue their reunion the next morning, so she and Chase exchanged phone numbers and arranged to meet for breakfast.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

 _ **Eighteen Years Ago in Ohio**_

 _Mary's home was a warm, homey place. Her husband Manny was quiet, but Corrine felt comfortable around him. Dinner was a simple affair, but tasty and filling. It was the first good meal Corrine had had in over a week. She was able to take a shower while dinner was cooking. And afterward, she was able to use Mary's washer and dryer to get all her clothes clean. It felt good to be clean, to wear freshly laundered clothes and to have a full belly. And to be in a welcoming home._

 _After dinner, Corrine helped Mary wash the dishes and straighten the kitchen. While Manny watched a game on TV, Mary joined Corrine in the room she would sleep in. Corrine was surprised when she saw the bedroom. It was like stepping back in time. It was a typical teenage girl's room, but from at least a decade ago. Corrine recognized some of the posters of boy bands that adorned the walls, and knew several were no longer together. The clothes in the closet were outdated. There was even a calendar tacked to the bulletin board that was from twelve years ago._

 _As Corrine dropped her backpack on the bed, she watched Mary move from one thing to another, tenderly touching the stuffed animals on the bed, the photographs pinned to the bulletin board and the clothes hanging in the closet. Corrine bent closer to look at the pictures and saw a pretty teenager staring up from them. She was blonde and blue-eyed with a big smile. While Corrine was also blonde and about the same age as the girl in the pictures, they looked nothing alike._

 _She turned to look at Mary, about to ask who the girl was, but saw Mary's eyes filling with tears. The question died on her lips._

 _Mary sat on the end of the bed, a well-worn teddy bear clutched in her hands. In a quiet subdued voice, unusual for Mary, she said, "This is our daughter's room. I haven't changed a thing." Mary glanced around the room. "René is a lot like me: big personality, energetic, passionate. We were best friends until she turned sixteen. And then things changed. We always seemed to disagree. Disagreements turned into shouting matches. Shouting matches turned into long bouts of silence. There were lots of tears on both sides. And then, one day, she was gone."_

 _Mary didn't say anything for a while, so Corrine asked, "Gone?" She wasn't sure what Mary meant by that. Had her daughter left or had she died?_

 _Mary sighed. "She just wasn't here one morning. I knocked on her door to get her up for breakfast, but she wasn't here. The only thing she took was her backpack, a few pieces of clothing and her Walkman." She stroked Corrine's backpack and tears streamed down her face._

 _Corrine was decidedly uncomfortable. "She ran away." It was a statement, not a question._

 _Mary nodded and looked up at Corrine. "It's a living hell for a mother, not to know if your child is safe. If she's hungry or in pain. If she's scared or in danger. And there's nothing you can do. But the worst part is ... not knowing. Never knowing what happened to her."_

 _Corrine shut her eyes, trying not to think about Patty and what she might be going through. She told herself her situation was different from Mary's. Corrine and Patty had never been close. Hell, they barely knew one another. The awkward silence continued. Finally, Corrine whispered, "I'm sorry."_

 _"It's been twelve years. You think I'd get over it, but each day, the pain is as fresh as the first day." Mary stood, carefully propping the teddy bear up against the bed's headboard. She didn't look at Corrine as she said, "If there's anyone you'd like to call, tell them you're okay, there's a phone in the kitchen. Don't worry about the cost."_

 _Corrine didn't look at Mary as she answered, a little bitterly, "There's no one. It was just my dad and me. And he died a few months ago. There's no one who will miss me."_

 _Mary and Corrine finally faced each other. Without a word, Mary pulled Corrine into her arms and hugged her. And then Mary left Corrine alone, each woman deep in her own grief._

 _At breakfast the next morning, Mary offered Corrine a proposition. "You came to Kipton to be with your best friend, to be with someone who cared about you. Well, I know we just met, but I care about you, Wren. John said you were looking for a job. What if you came to work for me, at the office?"_

 _Corrine nearly dropped her fork. "You're offering me a job?"_

 _"Yes. Business is booming and orders are coming in faster than I can process them. And then there's the invoices and follow-up phone calls. And the filing! I could really use some help. Plus, part of my job requires me to walk the new orders down to the quarry as soon as they come in. My knees are really starting to bother me, and the walk down and back aggravates my knees. You're young and can handle it, even during the winter months to come. What do you say?"_

 _Corrine hesitated, trying to take in this new scenario. Ohio wasn't California, but did location really matter? Her goal had been to get away from her past and she had. Maybe she could try this out for a few weeks, make some money, and then see. She took a deep breath. "What about a trial run? Like a probation. See if you can work with me, and if I can do the job. I've never done anything but wait on tables, but I'm willing to give anything a try."_

 _"Well then, that's settled. You can come in to work with me today and we'll talk to the owner. Sam's a really decent guy and he's been trying to get me to slow down for years. I know he'll go for this. And you've already got a place to stay. Manny likes you. And I like you. And I think you'll like Kipton. It doesn't have all the amenities of Newark, but it does have its own special charm. And you'll be right at home with all the Portuguese Kiptonites."_

 _As Mary drove Corrine down to the quarry office, Corrine broached a subject that had been plaguing her. "Mary, I told you that my father had recently passed away..."_

 _"Yes, my dear, and I am so sorry for your loss." Mary reached across the console and patted her knee. "You are too young to be all alone in the world."_

 _"I am alone, but ... there may be people ... um, looking for me," she glanced at Mary, but Mary kept her eyes on the road and didn't seem surprised by Corrine's admission. "I have a few months before I'm legally an adult, but there's nothing for me back in New Jersey. I have no desire to return. It's not my home anymore."_

 _"But you are running away?" Mary asked._

 _"I left New Jersey, but there's no one there who cares about me, who loves me. There was no reason for me to stay. But there might be some who feel like it's their responsibility to haul me back, just because I'm not quite eighteen yet. I can't go back. There are too many memories."_

 _"So, what are you saying? Or what are you asking?"_

 _"I know that an employer has to report employees and what they pay them. I was wondering, if ... maybe ... I could be paid in cash. I'm only temporary. It would only be for a couple of weeks. That way, there'd be no record of me here."_

 _Mary kept driving and didn't respond until she pulled into the office parking lot. She turned to Corrine. "I have a better idea. My daughter used to work part-time here in the summer. I don't know if it's just a coincidence or not, but her name's René and yours is Wren. Maybe it's fate that brought you to us. What if we used her name and social security number? Would you mind being René Oliveiras for a while?"_

 _Corrine's eyes got big, and then she grinned. "Well, Mom, I think that would be great."_

 **Present Day Trenton**

Ranger stood in the doorway to the guest room and watched his daughter sleep. Thankfully, she'd wiped the goop off her face before she went to bed last night. Looking at her now in the early morning light she looked like the small child he remembered. Where had the junior vamp he'd picked up at the airport come from? Was that puberty in action? She'd actually flirted with Santos, and yes, he'd been dead serious. Lester was going to spend time above the Arctic Circle. Lord, he missed Stephanie. He needed her. She would know how to deal with Julie. He was clueless.

He'd avoided the room Stephanie had halfway prepared for her, taking her to another guest room in the house. After she'd gone to bed, he went to his office intending to work, but instead he'd poured himself a measure of his father's favorite brand of Cuban dark rum and kicked back with his feet on his desk. How did one take care of a thirteen-year-old girl who looked twenty-three and was definitely testing the waters where he was concerned? She was too old for a babysitter and way too young to be left to her own devices.

He considered having Ella watch her, but Ella had her hands full taking care of the house while dealing with the odds and ends of housekeeping at RangeMan. She hadn't complained, most likely because of the whopping thirty percent increase in pay he'd given her, but he didn't want to press his luck. That left only one option. His mother. Despite the late hour, he'd called her. She'd agreed to occupy Julie's daytime hours until he could get a better idea of Stephanie's return date.

He'd thought about calling or texting Stephanie, but he'd decided against it. He missed her and he was sure she missed him. He didn't want to sound like a wimp whining about her absence and asking when she'd be back. She didn't know when she'd be back. And he'd gotten along most of his life without her. He should be able to handle a week or two. He shuddered at the thought of him and Julie alone in the house for two weeks. It was just that Stephanie had a connection that was stronger than his own with Julie. He would never have agreed to have Julie stay the entire summer if it hadn't been for Stephanie.

His phone vibrated against his hip and he moved from the doorway to let Julie sleep a while longer while he took the call. He grunted a note of satisfaction. It was Stephanie. Good. That way he could get the information he'd wanted last night and he wouldn't come off as pathetic.

"Babe."

"Hi. I miss you, Ranger."

"I miss you, too," he said. An understatement.

"We found her!" Stephanie announced without warning.

"Wre…Corrine? You found her?" He mentally cursed himself. He hadn't made the decision yet as to whether he'd tell Stephanie or not. It depended on several things. Maybe he wouldn't come in contact with the woman, and if he did, it was entirely possible she wouldn't even remember him. It had only been part of one summer—and he'd left her abruptly, although not of his own choosing. And it wasn't as if she'd been a significant part of his past. He wondered at his own hesitancy to tell Stephanie.

"Ranger, did you hear me?"

"No, sorry … come again."

There was silence on the other end of the line and then Stephanie's laughter burst forth. "I said, we found her! If she's a match we'll know by the end of the day, and then, regardless, I'll be on my way home, as fast I can get there. And I plan to 'come' when I get there … so when you said, 'Come again'…" Her giggles overtook her.

"Babe." He couldn't help but grin at his newlywed wife's enthusiasm. It was one he shared, though not as overtly.

"Sorry, but I did tell you I miss you?" She spent the next several minutes recounting their trip and the random way in which they'd found Chase's sister. And she reiterated her desire to be home.

"I'd like you here, too, Babe. I picked up Julie last night. She's spending the day with my mom and I know she's anxious to see you." A few more minutes and the conversation was over. He disconnected and walked back to Julie's door.

"Julie," he called. "Time to get up. Ella will have breakfast for us soon."

"Okay," she replied. She sat up, pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them and yawned widely. She smiled at him and he smiled back, feeling confident things would be fine now that Stephanie was coming home.

Ella met Julie as she entered the kitchen and wrapped her in a big hug. At thirteen, Julie was several inches taller than his petite housekeeper. Once again, he assessed his daughter, decked out in full goth makeup, spiky hair, black nail polish and black clothes. How had she made the transformation from innocent sleeping child to … to this travesty in such a short time? Ella didn't bat an eye at her appearance, and she hugged Julie with affection. The two had met during the Scrog affair, and like everyone else who met Ella, Julie had been drawn to her at once.

"Julie, dear," Ella said, "I don't know your favorites yet, but I will. I have pancakes, yogurt, granola, an assortment of bagels, turkey bacon, and cantaloupe. I hope there is something you'll eat.

"I'll eat everything," Julie replied with enthusiasm. "At home I usually just have Fruit Loops or a Pop-Tart, so this is great!"

"I'm surprised your mom lets you eat that junk," Ranger said. "I thought she was in to healthy eating."

"She is," Julie replied. "But Ron's not, and since Mom leaves for work before Ron, he's in charge of breakfast."

"Sit here," Ella instructed her, "and I'll get you a plate of pancakes to start. Would you like some too, Ranger?"

"I'll have a bagel, and coffee," he replied.

"I'll have coffee, too," Julie said.

"Aren't you a little young for coffee?" Ranger asked.

"Oh, Ra…Dad! Are you afraid it will stunt my growth? I'm already almost as tall as you!"

That was an overstatement, Ranger thought, but she was at least 5'9", so he guessed she had a point. Ella prepared their plates and then left the kitchen, probably to straighten the bedrooms. She didn't waste any time.

"I heard from Stephanie this morning," Ranger told Julie. "She should be coming home in a couple of days. Once she's back the two of you can finish your room, and you can move from the guest room."

"That will be great," Julie said. "I can't wait to see her. Can I look at my room today, so I'll know what it's like?"

"I'd rather you didn't," Ranger told her. "Stephanie has put some thought into it and tried to give you something you'd really like. I'd rather she be the one to show it to you."

"That's cool," Julie said. She busied herself cutting her plate-sized pancake into bite-sized pieces and then floated the pieces in maple syrup. Ranger would have to speak to Ella about reducing the sugar in her offerings. She knew better than to prepare that type of food for him, but Stephanie had loosened the rules.

Julie looked up from her plate and smiled at him, and he wondered how she could eat without messing up black lipstick. Really, this Goth thing was ridiculous, and he hoped Stephanie's plan of total acceptance did something to lessen its appeal to Julie. "What are we doing today?" she asked her father.

"I'm going to work, but you are spending the day with your Grandma Sofia."

"Oh, that's nice," Julie said, her tone indicating maybe it wasn't so nice.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Ranger asked.

"No, I'm sure Grandma Sofia and I will have a nice day, it's just that I was … well, I was hoping I could help out at RangeMan this summer."

"You're only thirteen. That's a little young for a job, don't you think?"

"It's not like it would be my first job," Julie said. "I babysit all the time and I've made some good money at it."

"Do you enjoy babysitting?" he asked. Maybe she could watch some of her younger cousins this summer. That would be a good way for her to get to know the Mañoso family.

"I hate it," she said. "That's why I thought it would be cool to come here and work at RangeMan."

"If you hate it, why do you do it?" Ranger asked.

"Duh," she said. "For the money. Ron says I have to earn money for my clothes. He doesn't make so much, you know."

Ranger frowned but refrained from comment. The money he sent every month for Julie was generous. More than enough to pay for all her expenses. That was the second comment she'd made in a matter of minutes about Ron that unsettled him. He remembered Rachel saying that Julie was getting on Ron's last nerve. He'd been operating under the assumption that they were a happy and well-functioning family. Now he was starting to seriously reconsider that notion.

"I really want to work at RangeMan," Julie said. "I think it's wicked cool that you have that business. I'd like to help you."

Ranger was silent for a moment. His answer might have a far-reaching impact, and he wanted to make sure he got it right. Damn, he wished Stephanie was here.

"There are laws that prohibit me from hiring you formally," he said. "If you will take a couple of days to get settled in, I will see what I can do. It might be possible for you to help Stephanie. It would be more like an internship rather than a job. Would that be acceptable?"

"Internship," Julie repeated. "Does that mean it wouldn't pay?"

"It wouldn't pay. Do you receive an allowance at home?"

"Heck, no!"

"You will while you're here," Ranger said. "How you spend it will be your decision entirely, but there are certain conditions that will have to be met."

"I get it," she said. "I have to follow your rules or I get no money."

"That's right, no money," Ranger said. "And no privileges if the rules are broken. My men at RangeMan know they must follow the rules and there are consequences if they don't. It works well there so I don't see why it won't work here."

Julie sighed. "Okay. Hit me with it. What are the rules?"

"I don't know yet," Ranger said. "When Stephanie gets back the three of us will sit down and work out reasonable guidelines for your time here. We will discuss your allowance at that time as well."

"You mean I get to have a say in this?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in question. He nodded. "That's gucci!"

Ranger raised an eyebrow identical to his daughter's and she smiled. "That's cool, Dad." She got up and came over to his side of the table. She dropped a quick kiss on his cheek and left the room. He put his hand to his face and wondered if he had a black lip imprint.


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Thanks to all who leave guest reviews. We read them and appreciate them. Since several readers requested a special "Holiday" post, here it is! We will return to our M-W-F posting schedule in two days.**_

 **CHAPTER 12**

 **Present Day Ohio**

Corrine met Chase and Stephanie the next morning and they spent the first hour discussing Eric's illness and his need for a bone marrow transplant. Chase explained the procedure and what was entailed. They also discussed Corrine getting tested to see if she was a match for Eric. Corrine was eager to help.

After those preliminaries were taken care of, brother and sister got caught up on their respective lives. Stephanie stayed in the background, enjoying their reunion.

"Well, you know I'm married. Her name's Sylvia and she's a wonderful woman. I got lucky when she agreed to marry me. And I've told you about our son Eric. The two of them are my entire world. I also own a chain of motorcycle shops in Jersey and Pennsylvania."

Corrine smiled. "So, your adolescent obsession with bicycles turned into an adult love of motorcycles, huh, brother?"

"I'm not sure I've ever grown up, and I certainly haven't grown out of my love for all things with wheels. I called my first store 'Chase Your Dreams'." He smiled as Corrine laughed. "Before Eric got sick, I spent way too much time worrying about the business, but this last year I've left the day to day running of the company to my store managers. I've focused all my attention on my son. I ...um... nothing else is as important as getting him well again."

Corrine reached over and squeezed his hand. "I understand. I can't imagine my life without my son. I will do everything in my power to help you and Eric."

"You have a son?" Chase asked.

Corrine nodded, a smile stretching her face wide. "I didn't have any expectations for my life when I left New Jersey. I just had to get away. I'd planned to go to California. It seemed far enough away that I could forget the pain I wanted to leave behind." She met Chase's gaze and told him, "You had nothing to do with it. It was the pain of losing my father. And being forced to live with a mother I didn't know. School was a nightmare. And I was a teenager full of raging hormones that made things seem worse than they probably were."

"We didn't know why you left, but we knew you were unhappy," Chase said. "I always wondered where you went and what happened to you."

"I didn't make it to California," Corrine admitted. "I ran out of money and had to stop and get a job, here in Ohio. I hitched a ride with a truck driver named John Madrid, and he lived in Kipton, Ohio. A friend of mine from the old gang I used to run around with was from Kipton, so I went there hoping she could help me get a job, but she'd moved. A very kind woman who worked with John took me in and treated me like her daughter. She let me work for her and stay in her home, until I felt like it was my home, too. I got to know John better, and we fell in love and got married. He was a wonderful man and a great father." She paused and looked down at her hands as she shredded one paper napkin after another. "He was killed in a multi-vehicle accident a few years ago. It's been hard on me and Connor." Her face lit up as she mentioned her son. "Connor is the light of my life, just as Eric is yours."

"So, I have a nephew. And Eric has a cousin," Chase stated, a hint of awe in his voice. "I'm so sorry about your husband, Corrine. I wish I could have met him."

Corrine teared up. "I wish you could have too. We have a lot of catching up to do," Corrine said. "When I left, I was in a lot of pain, grieving over my father. I didn't mean to hurt anyone, least of all you, or your ... um ... our ... How is ... our mother?"

Chase took a deep breath. "Mom's gone. She passed away when I was a freshman in high school."

Corrine let out a tiny gasp. "I had no idea. I'm so sorry, Chase. What happened?"

"She died of a congenital heart defect. No one knew she had it. She just kept getting sick, but then she'd get better. One time, she didn't get better. It was especially hard on Dad. He started drinking and got depressed. I was in college when I got the word that he died. He wrapped his car around a light pole one night." Both Chase and Corrine were silent for a moment. "I'm so glad I found you, Corrine. It's nice to have family again."

"I'm glad you found me too," Corrine said. "How _did_ you find me?"

Chase turned to Stephanie. "I wouldn't have, without Stephanie. She has an uncanny way of finding people. Her husband Ranger told me that she has a second sense. He told me he trusted her 'hunches' and advised me to do the same. I'm glad I did." He and Steph shared a smile.

"Are you a psychic?" Corrine asked her.

Stephanie chuckled. "No, not at all. Believe it or not, I used to be a bounty hunter. And I had my fair share of luck at finding people. But now, I work with my husband in his security business."

"So, Chase hired you to find me?"

Another chuckle. "No. I'm doing this as a favor to Chase."

Corrine's eyes widened. Chase jumped in, "Steph and I used to date, many years ago. When I couldn't find you through other means, I remembered reading about Stephanie and her...um... unorthodox success in finding people. I looked her up, and she agreed to help. I'll never be able to thank you enough, Curls."

"I'm just glad it worked out," Steph said. "I do have a few questions for you, Corrine, or do I call you René?"

Corrine looked down at her empty breakfast plate. Several seconds later, she looked back at Stephanie and said, "I guess it's time to be Corrine again. Except... my son knows nothing about my past. I don't want to spring all this on him too suddenly. It may take me a while to explain it to him."

"Can I meet him?" Chase asked.

"Connor's visiting his grandmother right now. Well, the woman he accepts as his grandmother. Mary, she's the one who took me in all those years ago, is an amazing woman—larger than life. She had a stroke last year, though, and now lives in an assisted care facility near Lake St. Clair, outside of Detroit. She dotes on Connor and he loves her." Corrine regaled them with several humorous stories about Mary and Connor, getting into trouble together.

"How did you pick René for your name?" Steph asked, curious about Corrine's early years and thought patterns, since she'd spent so much time trying to find her and think like her.

"René was Mary's daughter's name. She ran away from home when she was sixteen. Mary has never found out what happened to her, but she assumes that her daughter is dead. I wanted to put my old life behind me and I was afraid that I would be forced to go back to New Jersey." Corrine glanced over at Chase, an apologetic look on her face. "I know it wasn't exactly legal, but Mary suggested I use her daughter's name when she got me a job at the place she worked. I thought it would only be for a few weeks, but, as it turns out, those few weeks turned into nearly eighteen years."

"No wonder I couldn't find any trace of you," Steph said. "My only recourse was searching for you in Portuguese communities."

"You're kidding? _That's_ how you found me?" Corrine asked.

"That's where we've been looking for you. Kipton is considered one of the top one hundred Portuguese towns in the country. We took a chance. The only reason we had dinner at Mulligan's last night is because the internet billed it as serving Portuguese cuisine."

Corrine laughed. "I'm afraid that's my influence. I shared some of my dad's recipes with the owner and they've been a hit with the customers. I guess that old saying is true. Life is stranger than fiction."

With all their questions answered except the main one, they adjourned to a local medical clinic so that Corrine could get tested as a bone marrow donor for Chase's son. The results would be back by the end of the day.

 **Present Day Newark**

Sofia watched as both doors of the fancy black car opened simultaneously and her son and granddaughter got out. Her eyes widened a bit at Julie's appearance. This was the reason then, that Rachel had shipped Julie to spend the summer with Carlos. She'd known there'd been a reason. The girl was tall and moved with a grace that belied the chunky booted feet. Combat boots. The girl was wearing combat boots! And what was that around her neck? A dog collar? Carlos might have given her some warning. No matter, though. This was the same baby she'd held and loved years ago, in Miami, during the short time Carlos and Rachel had been married. She wouldn't let an off-putting appearance keep her from getting to know the older version of the grandchild she'd loved since the first time she'd seen her.

Sofia thought Carlos looked a little uncomfortable as he escorted the girl toward the house. Good. It was good that her son was uncertain with his daughter. He was always so sure of himself, commanding the army of men he employed. This would be a time of learning for him, and for Julie, she suspected. She thought Julie would have to be handled delicately this summer. She was at that age when she thought she was old enough to make her own decisions. That was obvious by the decision she'd made about her clothing.

Julie needed guidance. She needed to be gently steered in the right direction all the while thinking she was choosing her own path. Sofia wondered if her son was up to the task. She hoped so. She imagined Stephanie was more than capable. With a little sense of relief, she remembered it wasn't her problem. She'd already dealt with the troubles of adolescence with her own children. Her task was not to raise this child. All she had to do was love this girl. With a lightness of heart, she opened the door and held out her arms for Julie to walk into.

Julie didn't hesitate. She came forward and slipped into her grandmother's embrace, wrapping her own arms around the considerably shorter woman. "Hi, Grandma Sofia. I'm happy to see you, again," she said.

"I'm happy for you to be here, Julie. Now, step back and let me look at you." Julie did as she was told. "You're a beautiful girl," Sofia told her. "You remind me of myself when I was your age." Sofia ignored the raised eyebrow of her son and went on, "Of course, you're taller. You get that height from the Mañoso side of the family."

"Mom says I look like my father's side of the family," Julie said, apparently agreeing with her grandmother's appraisal. "I think that's why Dad—I mean Ron—doesn't like me so much anymore."

"I'm sure your stepfather loves you, child," Sofia said, noting the frown lines crease her son's forehead. "Julie, come in and we'll have breakfast."

"I've already eaten," Julie told her.

"Oh, I'm sure," Sofia said. "I'll bet Ella had an egg white omelet or a bagel with low-fat cream cheese prepared for you." At Julie's widened eyes, Sofia cast a disparaging look at her son. "Come with me, dear. We'll have café con leche and some fruit, and get reacquainted with one another." She stepped in front of Carlos as he made his way into the house. "Don't you have some security business to attend to, mi hijo?" Before he could respond, she gave him a small push back through the door and closed it behind him.

Sofia had wondered if she'd have trouble keeping her young granddaughter entertained for the entire day, but it turned out to have been a needless worry. During their conversation at the kitchen table it became apparent to Sofia that Julie was hungry for information about her father's growing up years. After the table was cleared, the photo albums came out.

"This is your father at the age you are now," Sofia told Julie pointing to a page of casual snapshots.

"He was handsome," Julie said. "I think he still is, in an older man kind of way, I mean."

Sofia smiled at the thought of her son being considered an older man. "He was a handsome young man," Sofia agreed. "You resemble him, or actually, as I said earlier, you remind me of me." Sofia pulled an album from the bottom of the stack and opened it, paging through until she found what she was looking for.

Julie looked at the picture and gasped. "Is that you?" she asked.

"It is. I was seventeen."

"You were beautiful, Grandma."

"As are you, dear."

There was a big sigh from Julie. She looked at her grandmother and said, "Okay, here it comes. The part where you tell me if only I'd wash my face and dress differently, how much better I'd look."

"I would never!" Sofia exclaimed. "It's entirely your right to wear whatever you want, as long as you're dressed modestly. I might complain if your clothes weren't clean, but they are. It doesn't matter to me what you wear. It's your statement, dear, although I must confess I'm not sure what statement you are trying to make."

"No statement. I just like it. Isn't that enough?"

"It's entirely enough," Sofia replied. She thought she saw a little disappointment in her granddaughter's expression. Was it possible she had hoped to be challenged on her wardrobe? Sofia would be sure to mention that possibility to Carlos or Stephanie when she had the chance. In the meantime, there were more pictures to look at and more stories to tell.

"Let's go back to the album with pictures of your father," Sofia said. "Here is one of him with his grandmother, when he went to live with her in Miami."

"My father lived in Miami when he was young? Is that how he met my mother?"

The question took Sofia by surprise, but then she realized Julie knew next to nothing about Carlos. "This picture was taken years before your father met your mother," Sofia told her. "He left Newark when he was still in high school to go live with his grandmother." She hesitated for a moment wondering if Carlos would mind, but then she decided to tell Julie a slightly abbreviated story of her father's troubled past. Julie listened intently.

"Wow," she said when Sofia was finished. "History repeats itself. Dad was sent to Miami to get away from a bad situation, and I was sent from Miami for kind of the same reasons."

Sofia had wondered, but didn't have all the details. "I hope you weren't involved with a gang," she said.

"No," Julie said with a low chuckle, before becoming serious. "I did get into some trouble," she admitted, "but I was falsely accused. Really, I was!"

Sofia realized her face must have shown some doubt at Julie's statement. She mentally vowed to listen with an open mind. The girl deserved that.

"I went to a party where there were older guys, and there were drugs being used. But I didn't do anything wrong. I got in trouble anyway. My mom just used it as an excuse to get rid of me for the summer. My stepdad kind of resents me being around and that makes it hard on Mom. I don't mind though. I wanted to come up here. I might get to work at RangeMan this summer."

Sofia was taken aback by Julie's casual statement about her stepfather's resentment. Something else to add to the list of things to mention to Carlos and Stephanie. She decided not to comment on it, saying instead, "Your father is going to make you work?"

"No, not make me. I want to. He's deciding what he can let me do since I'm so young. I might get to be Stephanie's assistant."

"That could be interesting," Sofia said. "And your clothes are the right color for the job…"

Julie grinned. "Yeah, they are!"

It was going to be an eventful summer for her son, Sofia thought. She had no idea how right she was.


	13. Chapter 13

_AN: In case you missed it, we posted a Memorial Day bonus - Chapter 12 - on Saturday. We know many of you have questions about Corrine and how her life relates to Ranger and Steph's, so we want to get to those revealing chapters quickly._

 **CHAPTER 13**

 **Present Day Ohio**

Chase and Steph met up with Corrine back at Mulligan's Pub that evening. Chase's demeanor was much different from the night before. He was nearly bouncing off the walls. As soon as he saw Corrine, he ran to her and swung her around, hugging her tightly. "You're a perfect match," he shouted, oblivious to the dinner crowd around them.

"I'm a match?" she shouted back, caught up in her half-brother's enthusiasm.

"A _perfect_ match," he said. "You meet all the main factors. I called Sylvia and she told me I had to hug you for her."

Corrine grinned as Chase gave her another bear hug. Then she led Chase and Stephanie to a quiet booth so they could talk without disturbing the other diners. "So, what happens now?" she asked.

"Your test results have already been forwarded to Eric's doctors, and they are going to begin getting Eric ready tomorrow. That means they start him on a chemotherapy treatment to prepare his body to receive your bone marrow. That will take about five days. In the meantime, we need to get you to Newark so the doctors can check you out and make sure you are healthy and able to donate your bone marrow. That's standard procedure; nothing to worry about."

Corrine nodded. "I know we talked about this, but now that it's really happening, how long will I have to be in Newark? I have my son to think about."

"You may be in the hospital for several days after the procedure, just to make sure everything is all right, and then you need about a week's recovery time. Sylvia and I have already talked about it and we want you to stay with us as long as you need to. We have a guest room already prepared. Connor is also welcome to stay with us. He can sleep in Eric's room."

"Well, Connor has summer camp for two weeks. I can come to Newark after he leaves for camp and then be back before he returns. I would prefer to tell him after the procedure is done and he knows that I'm fine. I don't want him to worry about me." Corrine gave Chase a wistful smile. "Ever since John passed away, Connor has felt like he has to be the man of the house. He is very protective of me."

"That's understandable, and commendable. And I understand your reluctance not to tell him about you donating your bone marrow. It could be a scary thing for a little boy to think about. Whatever you need to do, I will support you, and your son," Chase told her. "I can't wait to meet my young nephew. And Eric will be thrilled to know he has a cousin."

Corrine was quiet, as if considering something. She shook herself and continued, "Connor doesn't come home from Mary's until day after tomorrow, and as I said, then he leaves for camp on Monday. I can come to Newark then."

"That will work," Chase said. "There'll be a first-class plane ticket waiting for you at the Cleveland airport, and I'll pick you up in Newark. Leave everything to me. I'll take good care of you. Stephanie and I will head back to Newark tomorrow and set things up. You have my phone number. Let me give you Sylvia's number, too," Chase said. He reached for her hands and brought them to his lips. "I can't thank you enough, Corrine, for doing this. It means everything to me."

"I'm so glad you found me and that I'm a match. It's like it was meant to be," Corrine said.

 **Present Day Trenton**

Stephanie had the need to be horizontal. It had been a long and arduous ride home, one probably best suited for two days, but neither she nor Chase had wanted to stop. Chase needed to get home to his wife and son, and make ready a place for Corrine. Stephanie wanted to get back to her life. She wanted to see Julie, and catch up on her missed work at RangeMan, and she needed to see Ranger.

Now, as she walked into her home, she was conscious of the fatigue fighting its way through the numbness of her posterior and working its way up her spine. Her ears were ringing due to prolonged exposure to road noise. Eight hours on a bike, most of it through heavy traffic on interstates pockmarked with orange construction cones, had taken a toll on her. She wanted to strip off her clothes, hop in the shower and lie down. But not alone. She needed her husband.

And then as if by magic, she looked across the foyer to see Ranger coming down the stairs.

"You're home!" she exclaimed, a smile lighting up her face. "I was going to go upstairs and call to tell you I was home."

"I've been tracking your progress," he told her. "And I've been hoping you'd get here before my mother returned with Julie. I thought we could use a little alone time."

Julie. The realization hit Stephanie that she and Ranger were no longer alone in the Bat Cave. The reunion she'd been fantasizing about all day wasn't going to happen. They could hardly spend the next twelve hours in bed if Julie was staying with them. Her disappointment must have showed on her face, because Ranger smiled as he stopped in front of her at the bottom of the stairs.

"I called my mother, and Julie won't be returning home until after dinner. My sisters insisted on welcoming Julie, so they are having a big family dinner at my parents' house."

"Oh, so we have to go to Newark this evening?"

"No. I told my mother I wasn't sure what time you'd be getting in, so we have a temporary reprieve. Let's not waste any time," he said. He bent his head and claimed her lips. It was a gentle kiss, as Ranger's kisses went, but it was enough to remind her that she desperately wanted, needed, to be horizontal. His arms tightened around her, but she pulled back slightly.

"If we have limited time," she said, "I don't want to waste any, but I should … I need to take a shower."

"What a coincidence," Ranger said as he nuzzled her ear. "So do I."

By the time their shower was over, Stephanie was feeling an even stronger need to lie down than she originally had, and for only slightly different reasons. Ranger hadn't wasted any time and had made good use of their shower time. Her legs were trembling and she thought her knees might buckle as he dried her off slowly, using the rough terry nap of the towel on recently sensitized skin.

Ranger mostly always set the pace for their lovemaking, and normally she was glad of that. It was as if he had an owner's manual to her body. He knew just the right time, just the right pressure, and exactly the right moves. But this was different. She'd been waiting to get home all day, with one thing on her mind. While riding all day on a motorcycle had left her butt sore, the constant vibrations of the powerful engine had also heightened her libido.

As they fell into bed she rolled over on top of him and straddled him just as she'd straddled the bike. He was surprised, a little, at her domination, but he made no complaint. He knew her to be single-minded at times, focused on her goal … and her goal now seemed to be to drive him completely out of his mind.

Later, he trailed a finger up the side of her thigh, across her abdomen and settled his hand over her breast, gently stroking her nipple and feeling it harden beneath his fingers. She moaned softly, and he thought she wouldn't protest if he rolled over on top of her. Thoughts of her moving under him stirred him into near readiness, but he resolutely tamped down his desire. His mother would be bringing Julie home before too long, and he had to talk to Stephanie. He knew putting it off would be unwise, but when she took his hand and moved it to her mouth, kissing his palm, he almost gave in. Almost. He had to tell Stephanie. They'd agreed not to keep secrets from each other.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away from her mouth. "We need to talk, Babe."

He watched as she raised her head and turned toward him. Her hair was wild, curling around her shoulders and falling over her forehead. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and her lips were swollen, and she looked innocent and provocative, in equal parts. The breast he'd recently been fondling was eye-level now, and once again he considered waiting to tell her. Especially since he had the impression that she considered their earlier round of lovemaking a prelude. But they needed to talk.

He saw a blush rise from her breasts all the way to her cheeks, and he knew she was remembering their recent carnality. She'd been a woman on a mission, and now she was embarrassed, wondering if what they'd just done was what he wanted to talk about. It amazed him that she could still blush with him. They weren't new any longer, and yet, it was new, every time.

He groaned out loud as he remembered her moving over him, riding him, taking her pleasure from him. He groaned again as he realized his semi-readiness was now a raging need. He rolled over on top of her and this time he was in charge. Turnabout was fair play, and he was sure she'd have no complaints.

He was gasping for breath, waiting for his heartbeat to steady and watching her come back into herself when his phone rang. His mother's ringtone.

"Fuck," he muttered.

"We just did," she replied throatily, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

He grabbed his phone from the bedside table. "Hello, Mother."

"Carlos. I'm bringing Julie home. I'll drop her off in about fifteen minutes. I was just making sure you're home. If not, I could take her to Ella's cottage."

He heard Julie in the background. "For Pete's sake! I'm not a child. I can take care of myself if he's not home."

"He's home," Ranger told his mother. "And she _is_ still a child. One who has a new stepmother anxious to see her. Bring her to the main house, Mother. And thanks."

He disconnected and turned to Stephanie. "Julie's ETA is fifteen minutes, Babe." He watched Stephanie come completely back into herself and smiled as she ran a hand through curls that were so big it would take almost the entire fifteen minutes to contain them. And then he remembered, they hadn't talked. But they would, later. He wouldn't put it off again.

Thirty minutes later, Stephanie found Ranger sitting with Julie at the bar in the kitchen. She was drinking a Coke, and Ranger had a glass of red wine. At the sound of Stephanie's approach, Julie stood and spun around. She made a movement toward Stephanie, and then stopped, as if unsure. Stephanie moved forward and wrapped Julie in her arms, hugging her tightly. She felt the girl relax into the hug.

"I'm so glad you're here with us," she told Julie. "Let me look at you." She pulled back to get a better look at the young girl. Julie had been just ten years old when she'd been kidnapped by Scrog. Now she was looking much more grown up than the girl Stephanie had first met.

"You look beautiful," Stephanie said. And it was the truth. It was just that she had to look beyond the pale ghoulish makeup and through the heavy black eyeliner to see the natural beauty of the girl. She wondered what Sofia had made of Julie's appearance. "You've really grown since I last saw you." That was true. The girl already had a figure to stop traffic. Stephanie could see that through the layer of black, and she could see long shapely legs that even black Army boots couldn't disguise. She pointed at the black vest Julie was wearing. "But, hey kiddo, we're going to need to go shopping soon."

Julie tensed and Stephanie sensed the defiance, even before she caught it in Julie's tone.

"We don't need to go shopping. I have clothes I like just fine."

Stephanie laughed and gave her a quick hug. "I'm sure you do, but every girl needs to shop! For one thing, we need to get some things to finish off your room, and I found a store that specializes in Goth clothing, _Devilicious_ is what it's called and we've got to try it. You'll need some summer clothes. It gets really muggy here."

Stephanie noticed that the defensive posture Julie had subtly displayed left just as quickly as it came. Before she could continue, the sound of her stomach rumbling caused Julie to smile.

"Let's have pizza for dinner," Julie said.

"That's a great idea. I could go for a thick slice," Stephanie said.

Ranger joined the conversation for the first time. "I thought you ate with my family."

"I did," Julie said. "But I'm a growing girl. I could use a snack."

Ranger rolled his eyes and picked up his phone. "Shorty's okay?" he asked Stephanie.

"It'd be great, but maybe we should go with someplace that delivers."

"RangeMan delivers," Ranger said. "I think Santos is looking to earn some brownie points."

While they were waiting for the pizza, Stephanie took Julie to see the room that was nearly but not quite complete. "I hope you like it," Stephanie told her. "When I heard you were into Goth I did some research. I wanted to give you someplace that was uniquely yours." She opened the bedroom door and heard Julie's gasp. "Do you like it?" Stephanie asked.

"Well, yes, but … you did this for me? My mom would have a fit. She thinks I've sold my soul to the devil, and it's not like that at all."

"Yes, I did it for you," Stephanie told her. "I remember being your age and although I was never into Goth I had my own sense of style back then. I think you should be encouraged to show your individuality, so as long as you're here, you can."

Julie's arms came around Stephanie in a rib-crunching hug. "Thanks, Steph."

"You're welcome, but you can see why we need to go shopping," Stephanie told her with a grin. "You have a bed, but no sheets or comforter. We need to get you out of that pale blue guest room and into this dark chamber where you belong!" They laughed and walked arm-in-arm back downstairs.

The pizza was delivered, Stephanie assumed by Lester, but she never saw him. They sat at the island, Ranger with his red wine and Stephanie and Julie with Cokes, and ate delicious pizza. Stephanie invited Julie to spend the next day with her. They'd go to the office and check on the work that had piled up in her absence, and they'd go shopping. And they'd figure out a plan for Julie. Stephanie wanted her to have a fun summer, and she was thinking of all sorts of activities, but that discussion would have to wait for another day, because after the road trip, and welcome home celebration with Ranger, and now pizza, she knew it was time to call it a day.

"I'm sorry to be a party-pooper," she told Ranger and Julie, "But I'm beat. I think I need to head up to bed."

"I have some things I need to discuss with you," Ranger told her. "I'll go up with you."

Stephanie saw the disappointment in Julie's eyes. "Can it wait until the morning?" she asked her husband. "I'm really exhausted. Maybe you and Julie could watch movies for a while and we could talk in the morning."

Ranger gave her a look long and then crossed the room to her. He bent and gave her a chaste kiss, in deference to Julie, she assumed. "Go to bed, Babe. It'll wait until the morning."


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

 **Present Day Trenton**

Stephanie awoke to the very pleasant feel of Ranger's hand sliding under her t-shirt. It traveled up slowly over her abdomen and cupped a breast. She stretched and turned toward him. This was a great way to start the day. She buried her face against his bare chest and sampled his smooth skin with her lips. She let her hands slide down him and smiled with satisfaction at feeling his warm torso, unencumbered by clothing. Ranger slept in the altogether. She did not. She still pulled on a RangeMan t-shirt every night, even though most nights it ended up on the floor. Since getting married, she had made one concession to her nighttime attire. Morelli's old gym shorts had been retired.

Ranger was eager this morning. He didn't bother pulling the shirt over her head. He just pushed it out of his way and got busy, and she responded. Later, when they were lying entwined, his leg thrown over her lower body, she wiggled under him. He nuzzled her neck in response to her movement. "You want to go again?" he asked.

"Well, it was pretty quick, but no, I need to go to the bathroom," she told him.

He didn't immediately let her go. "Pretty quick," he said. "Is that a complaint?"

She blushed. They were both remembering her unusually vocal response to his lovemaking. "No!" she answered.

He gave her the 200-watt smile. "I didn't think so. We're isolated in this suite, but I was starting to worry that Julie would come running to see what the commotion was."

Stephanie's blush grew darker. "Oh no! I didn't, I mean, I wasn't that loud, was I?"

"You were, Babe." At the look of horror on her face, he relented. "I'm teasing. You weren't that loud. But even if you were this is our house, and Julie is not so naïve that she doesn't know or imagine what goes on between us."

"Maybe we shouldn't…"

"Stop," Ranger told her. "I don't want you to think that, let alone say it. We will not be curtailing our lovemaking because we have a houseguest for the summer. While I won't be taking you on the dining room table or on the front stairs, that will be the only concession I'll make during her stay." He rolled onto his back, freeing her. "Go pee, and then come back. I've got something I want to discuss with you."

She did as he asked, snuggling in close to him under the covers upon her return. "Okay, talk," she told him, thinking that he wanted to update her on some facet of the RangeMan world before she returned to the office.

"I did some investigating on your case after you left," he told her. "I don't doubt your competency or your thoroughness, but I thought a second set of eyes wouldn't hurt. So, I looked at the research you'd done to find Corrine."

He had no need to explain himself to her. She welcomed any help. Now that they had found Chase's half-sister, she allowed herself to admit what a long shot the trip to find her had been.

"I'm glad you did that," she told him. "It's nice to know you had my back, even if there was nothing to find in my saved files."

"Oh, but there was," he said softly.

Something in the tone of his voice made the little hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She propped her head on her elbow, stared directly into liquid brown eyes, and waited for the bombshell she felt certain he was getting ready to drop.

"I came across a picture of Corrine," he said. "It was an old one, from high school."

"Well, duh!" Stephanie interjected. "No one had seen her since then. I couldn't get a newer one."

Ranger shook his head. "No, you couldn't. The thing is, I recognized her. Immediately."

"You knew her?" Stephanie was puzzled.

"Yes, but not by the name of Corrine Silva. I knew her only as Wren. I don't think she ever told me her real name. If I knew it at the time, I've long since forgotten it. We attended the same high school. It seems she left Newark not that long after I did. Once I was in Miami, any thoughts I had for what had been happening in Newark were pushed to the back of my mind. I must have given her a thought at some point, but I don't recall doing so."

"You knew her!" Stephanie exclaimed again. "What an amazing coincidence!"

"Yes, but I don't believe in coincidence."

Stephanie saw the furrowed brow and knew Ranger was serious. "You think it wasn't a coincidence? That maybe Chase knew that you knew Corrine when he came to ask for help?"

"I suppose it's possible," Ranger said. "But I've gone over and over everything in my mind and I can't find a link. So, while I don't believe in it, I think I may be the victim of coincidence."

"Well you shouldn't feel bad about it," Stephanie said, misunderstanding his meaning. "It's okay that you didn't remember right away. We found her, and we found her in kind of a coincidental way. Pretty cool, huh?"

Then it was Stephanie's turn to frown. "I can't believe she didn't tell me she knew you," Stephanie said.

"Maybe she doesn't remember me," Ranger said. "Or maybe she didn't put two and two together. When Chase introduced you, did she show any recognition of the name Mañoso?" he asked.

Stephanie thought for a moment. "I don't know that Chase ever told her my last name," she said slowly. "I gave her the sketch I had made of her, but I think I put Stephanie Plum on the back. And once or twice I mentioned my husband. But I called you Ranger, and she wouldn't have known that name. She would have known you as Carlos, right?"

He nodded.

"Wow! What fun it will be to tell her," Stephanie said.

"I'm not sure about that, Babe."

Stephanie sat up in bed and looked at her husband lying on his back. At first glance it might have seemed a casual pose, but she sensed tension radiating from him.

"What?" she asked. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Do you remember a conversation from a while back, when we were discussing my … experience … with older women?"

" _Yesss_."

"Corrine Silva was seventeen the summer I was fifteen. She was the girl to whom I lost my virginity."

"Holy cow, Ranger! And you didn't even remember her name?"

"I did. I do remember her name. She called herself Wren. I don't know if her last name was Silva, but it might have been. I saw her the entire summer before I left. We were close, and ... I suppose we imagined we were in love."

Stephanie felt a pang at his admission. She wasn't sure, but it might have been jealousy.

"We met nearly every day that summer," he said. "Both of us were in bad situations in our personal lives, and we were solace for one another. We were secretive about it. We didn't exchange details about ourselves. It added to the allure."

Steph was quiet, thinking about a young Ranger in love, and hiding those emotions from his family and friends. She could see his secrecy, but was having a harder time accepting that he had tender feelings for a girl. Then she remembered how she'd felt about Joe Morelli when she was that age, and she sighed. "But then you broke up with her and you went to Miami?" Stephanie asked.

"Yes … no. Not exactly. Wren stopped coming to our secret assignations. I didn't know why. One day, she just wasn't there. If I remember correctly, I didn't know her phone number or where she lived. I had no way of getting a hold of her. I assumed she'd moved on to something better. That's why I took a shot at my twenty-six-year-old neighbor. I'd gotten used to being with a woman and I was missing it."

"You were a horny kid with raging hormones," Stephanie said.

"Guilty as charged. I let myself be seduced by the neighbor lady and when her husband came home unexpectedly I took a fall for something I wasn't guilty of. That started a downward spiral that led to some unwise choices with my gang buddies, and my parents reacted by shipping me off to my abuela to be straightened out."

"And once in Miami you forgot all about Corrine, or Wren, as you called her?" Stephanie asked.

"That's about the size of it," Ranger agreed. "And if she hasn't made the connection by this time, I'd just as soon she never makes it at all. Your role in the situation is at an end, so I don't see what good there would be in Wren and me meeting again."

"But I really like her!" Stephanie said. "I'd planned to visit her while she's here."

"That's fine. But keep me out of it. With Chase as well. I don't think any good would come of us reacquainting ourselves."

"I guess I can," Stephanie said thoughtfully. "I could just let her think I'm Stephanie Plum. That's how Chase usually refers to me in any case."

Ranger levered himself up on his elbow and leaned across to drop a kiss on Stephanie's forehead. Their talk was apparently over. "Time to get the day started, Babe. What's on your agenda?"

"I'm taking Julie to RangeMan," she said. "I need to spend some time in my office and get things sorted out. I thought, maybe if you approve, she could help me. She wants to work at RangeMan and this would be an appropriate way to do it. And I could use the help. I'll bet she could organize my files."

"No doubt," Ranger said.

"And then," Stephanie continued. "We're going shopping. I thought I'd call Lula and see if she wanted to help Julie and I finish up with the décor for her room."

"Sounds like a plan," Ranger said. He got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. Stephanie stayed in place and watched his beautiful backside until it disappeared around the corner.

She knew she had to get up, find Julie, and get the day started, but she took a moment to think. Ranger had lost his virginity with Corrine. It was a secret that made her giddy with excitement, because she had learned something new about her husband and it was something he was unaware he'd let slip. That didn't happen very often.

It was obvious that Ranger had felt betrayed when Corrine had stopped coming to see him. He'd been vulnerable once. That side of him was still there, but he was usually very careful to hide it. Corrine had hurt him by her abrupt disappearance, and that was probably when he started to grow his anti-relationship armor. She'd managed to work her way through that armor. Yes, she'd keep his secret from Corrine. It wasn't that she was jealous, exactly. Well, maybe a little, she admitted to herself. Mostly it was that Ranger didn't want to reacquaint himself with his former teenaged lover. And that was reason enough to let Corrine think she was Stephanie Plum.

…..

Stephanie suspected Julie was waiting for a reaction, so she gave her an honest one. "Wow! You look great!"

Julie seemed momentarily taken aback. It was clear that Stephanie's reaction wasn't what she had been expecting. "Really?" she questioned. "Mom says what I'm wearing is inappropriate for my age. I think she's wrong."

"I don't know if she's wrong or not," Stephanie said, "I think you look way older than you are when you dress like that. And that could be a problem."

It was subtle, but Stephanie saw the shift to a defensive posture. It was as if Julie was daring her to criticize. Stephanie had assumed that her stepdaughter was into Goth because she liked it. Now she wondered if the choice had been made to garner attention. She tried to recall her own mindset at age thirteen, but that was twenty years ago. Holy crap. She was old.

"I think it's fun to look older than I am," Julie said.

"Yeah, it's fun for you, but not for everyone you're going to meet today." At Julie's look of puzzlement, she continued. "Here's the thing. Your father is protective. If you go into RangeMan looking as hot as you do now, and some innocent Merry Man gives you the eye … the guy could find himself doing security work in Siberia."

"Really, Siberia?"

"Well, no. I don't think we have any contracts in Russia. But we do in Alaska!"

"What's a Merry Man?" Julie asked.

Steph chuckled. "That's what I call your dad's employees. They're very loyal to him, you know like Robin Hood's men."

"I don't really know that much about Dad's company," Julie said.

"Stick with me, kid," Stephanie told her with a smile. "By the end of the summer you should be able to run the place!" Julie returned her smile.

"Back to what you're wearing, do you have a jacket or sweater you could throw on over that? "

"I do, but it's summer." Julie looked down at her formfitting black leggings worn with a snug black tank top. "I have another shirt. I'll go change."

"And while you're at it," Stephanie said. "You might want to change your boots."

Julie frowned. "What's wrong with my boots?"

"Absolutely nothing. They're killer. In fact, what size do you wear? I'd like to borrow them sometime. It's just that I have a girl's afternoon out planned for us. Do you think you'd be comfortable walking around the mall in those?" The boots in question were ankle boots with a high stiletto heel, and she hadn't been joking about borrowing them…or maybe buying a pair of her own.

"All right," Julie said, reluctantly. "Give me a sec and I'll change." She came back into the room less than five minutes later wearing a loose black tunic over the leggings and some Doc Marten look-alike black boots. She looked much more like a Goth teen and much less like a Goth seductress. Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief as they left for Haywood Street.

Four hours later, Stephanie called Ranger and asked him to come to her office. When he walked through the door, she said, "We have to talk. Your daughter is a dynamo!"

Ranger looked at Julie who was sitting in a chair reading the employee manual. "I don't disagree," he told his wife. "But could you be more specific?"

"I gave her some work to do this morning," Stephanie said as she walked over to lightly punch Julie in the arm. "And she did it, and she completely reorganized my office. She's so efficient that I'm thinking about loaning her out to Connie to get Lula into shape."

"I don't think so, Babe. The bonds office is no place for my daughter."

"I think she was teasing, Dad," Julie said. She set the manual on the small table under the window. "I think she really called you here to help decide how much you want to pay me—because I _am_ working here this summer."

Ranger looked at Stephanie and she nodded her head in agreement.

"Julie, your age limits you. I appreciate the work ethic, but there just isn't a lot you can do."

"There is a lot," Julie insisted. "I can do clerical work. I know how to type, and I can make copies of letters and reports. I can answer the phone. I can help Ella with some of her chores. I can watch the guys, the Merry Men," she amended as she shot a grin at Stephanie. "I can watch them when they are on monitor duty and get a feel for how the technology functions."

"Is this something you want to do? Wouldn't you rather spend time getting to know some of your cousins, or just relaxing?"

"I want to learn. I want to stay busy, Dad. Sure, I'd like to get to know my family better. Grandma Sofia, especially. But I want to work, too. I'm going to run RangeMan when you retire, after all."

Stephanie couldn't suppress the ear-to-ear grin. She'd never seen Ranger's eyebrows rise as high as they had at Julie's statement.

He shook his head in defeat. "You can work here this summer. I'm making Stephanie your supervisor." He turned toward his wife. "I'm holding _you_ responsible for her." He looked back at Julie. "I'll pay you minimum wage. Half in cash every Friday, and half deposited in an account for your college tuition. That way I can circumvent child labor laws." Steph was almost sure he rolled his eyes at his last comment.

There was a whirl of black as Julie catapulted herself from the chair toward her father. Ranger's arms hesitated only a moment before they wrapped around her. She lifted her face and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Dad. I won't let you down. This afternoon, Stephanie and I are having a girl's day out. We're going shopping with Lula, so I can get more black RangeMan clothes." Ranger groaned as he left the office.

Lunch was at Pino's. Stephanie wanted to give Julie the real Trenton experience and Pino's was the place to start. "Lula texted and said she's running a little late," Stephanie said as they slid into a booth.

"This place is interesting," Julie said. She was sitting very straight, looking around the restaurant with wide open eyes that seemed huge despite being rimmed with dark liner. Stephanie figured she hadn't encountered any place like Pino's in Miami. Maybe she was a little ill at ease here, but that would probably go away before the summer was over. She was a young girl a world away from her usual environment. Working with her this morning, it had been easy to forget her age. Julie was intelligent, with wonderful potential. Stephanie hoped they could help her find the right path for herself before the summer's end. Julie was meant to be a leader and not a follower, just as her father was a leader. She smiled at the thought of Ranger someday stepping back to hand the reins over to Julie. It could happen.

"This place _is_ interesting," Stephanie agreed, trying to see it through Julie's eyes. "The food is good, especially the meatball subs." She looked up from her menu, which she didn't need, to see a wary expression on Julie's face.

"Isn't that your … I mean, don't you know him?"

Stephanie turned to see Joe Morelli walking toward their booth. "I do know him," she said. "It's Joe Morelli, and yes, he is my old boyfriend. Now he's just my friend." She was surprised that Julie recognized him until she remembered that Joe had been very kind to Julie after the Scrog shooting.

"Hi, Cupcake," he said. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but is this beautiful young lady Julie?" He smiled at her and Stephanie rolled her eyes. He couldn't help it, she guessed. It was just his nature to flirt, but when she looked at Julie, she was glad Joe had stopped by their table. Julie looked pleased at being remembered.

"Do you remember me?" he asked her.

"Yeah, you're Officer Morelli."

"I am but you can call me Joe. You've grown up since I last saw you. Are you visiting for a while?"

"Yes, I'm spending the summer with my dad and Stephanie."

"Trenton in the summer," he grimaced. "I'd think they would want to spend the summer with you in Miami. That might be more fun." He turned as he heard his name called. "My order is ready, and I'm on the clock so I need to get it and go. It was nice seeing you, Julie. Good to see you, too, Steph." He walked away with a finger wave.

"He's nice," Julie said.

"He is nice," Stephanie agreed. "He's married now, too. I don't see him very often, but if I do, it's usually here. Lots of the cops and firemen like to come to Pino's."

"Uh, that's not a cop or a fireman—woman, I bet."

Again, Stephanie turned to look. Lula was walking determinedly to their booth. Today's ensemble was her favorite, poison green Capri pants with a pink and yellow polka-dotted blouse. Her accessories were all shades of green, yellow, and pink. It shouldn't have worked but somehow it did.

"Julie, do you remember Lula?" Stephanie asked.

"Of course she remembers Lula," Lula said. "I'm hard to forget. Look at you, girl. You're all growed up. And you look like your daddy. You're even dressed like your daddy. Good thing Stephanie called me. We got to get some color into you."

"I didn't ask you to go shopping with us to change Julie's wardrobe," Stephanie said. "Julie's Goth. She likes to wear black. I thought it would be fun to hang out. Maybe get manicures, do a little shoe shopping. And we need to buy a comforter and sheets for Julie's bed. I didn't quite get her bedroom finished before I had to leave with Chase."

"Hunh," Lula said. "Wearing black must be in your genes, since that's all your daddy wears. It's okay for him, but for you it's a shame. There's lots of good colors out there that would just set you off."

"I like the way this looks," Julie said, looking down at her black-clad body.

"Well, hell yeah, you do," Lula said. "Black looks good on you, but you're too young to be stuck in a black rut. You need to be like me. I've got different looks I wear for all my different moods. I got ingénue, bounty hunter, and today I got urban professional."

Stephanie looked at Julie and saw a familiar quiver at the corner of her mouth. She'd seen Ranger hide a smile in the same way many times before. Julie met Stephanie's gaze for a moment and Stephanie thought she almost lost her determination not to smile. Lula's description of her outfit as urban professional made Stephanie wonder what exactly an urban professional was and she thought maybe Julie had the same question.

"When we get done eating, we'll go get a manicure," Lula said. "You can exchange that black for a pretty color. That would be an easy way to start."

"I guess I could try that," Julie said.

Stephanie was startled by Julie's acquiescence, but not displeased by it. She wisely kept quiet about Julie's wardrobe and let Lula take the lead. Near the end of the day they visited the bedding department. Lula's influence continued and Julie turned to Stephanie to ask, "Would you mind if my room was done over, maybe in this lavender? I really like the Goth, but I think Lula's right. Maybe I should branch out a little."

"No, I don't mind," Stephanie said. "Louis enjoys painting. I think we can make the lavender work, if you're sure."

"I'll still be Goth sometimes, but I do need to find some different looks. Maybe tomorrow we could go shopping for some other clothes," Julie said. She wiggled her fingers, now coated with bright blue glitter polish, in front of Stephanie's face. "Maybe tomorrow we could shop for an outfit to match my nails."

"Maybe we could," Stephanie agreed. "I only have one condition. If you give up Goth, I want those ankle boots!"

"Deal!" Julie replied with a laugh. "Let's go home and tell Dad we're going to re-redo my room and buy me a new wardrobe."

"Yeah, let's do that," Stephanie said, smiling at Julie. "Maybe tomorrow we'll go for the urban professional look!"


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

 **Present Day Newark**

It was the big day. Transplant Day! Eric had completed his week of preparatory chemo treatments. Corrine had arrived and had undergone a cursory examination the day before and was cleared for the bone marrow transplant. The doctor had questioned an abnormality he detected in Corrine's heart, but she reassured him that she had a mild heart murmur, but it had never bothered her.

Aunt and nephew had been able to meet each other, which had only reinforced Corrine's determination to go through with the procedure. As a mother herself, she couldn't allow a child, any child to suffer if there was something she could do to prevent it. And Eric was Chase's son; he was of her blood.

Stephanie didn't need to be there, but she wanted to support Chase and his family. And she felt a connection to Corrine, partly because of the effort she'd put into finding her and partly because of what Ranger had confided to her about his own connection to Corrine. With this new insight under her belt, Steph was extremely curious about Corrine, but for now she was there to support both Chase and Corrine during the transplant procedure.

Steph saw Corrine just before she went into the operating room. "How are you feeling?" Steph asked her.

"I'm nervous, but excited to be doing this, if that makes any sense," Corrine told her. "After meeting Eric and getting to know him, I knew I had to do this. He is such a sweet child and is so optimistic about life. We need more of that in this world."

"I imagine you're thinking of your own son, too, at a time like this," Steph said. "Chase said you decided not to tell Connor about the transplant until you get back home?"

Corrine pursed her lips. "There is no need for him to worry, and Connor would worry. I want him to have a good time at summer camp. He's been looking forward to it for months. I'll tell him about the transplant and his new cousin, and everything else, once this is over. Chase and Sylvia have invited us to visit them next Christmas. Eric will be back home by then and, hopefully, stronger than ever, with this terrible illness behind him." Corrine reached for Steph's hand. "Thank you so much for all you did to help Chase find me. I would never have had the courage to do this on my own, to reconnect with Chase. I had always assumed that he would never want to see me again, after I left the way I did, all those years ago."

"You were so young back then, undergoing more than a child should have to bear." Steph was dying to ask Corrine some questions about that time of her life, about her time with Ranger, but knew she couldn't bring up that subject. Corrine needed her support, not an interrogation about her teenaged years. Steph continued, "I know Chase doesn't hold any grudges. He is so happy to have you back, and not just because of what you are doing for Eric. It's wonderful for all of you, to have found each other again. Enjoy every minute with your newfound family. My husband's daughter, from his first marriage, is staying with us for the summer. I am excited to have her with us, to have our own little family."

"Maybe we can all get together when Connor and I visit over the holidays?" Corrine mentioned, as she gave Steph's hand a squeeze. Two nurses appeared and started pushing Corrine's gurney down the hall toward the operating room. "I guess it's time," she said, a little tremor in her voice.

Steph gave her hand one last squeeze. "You're going to do great, Corrine."

...

Corrine made her way back to the bed, exhausted from the simple exertion of going to the bathroom. The doctors had said she would probably experience some fatigue after the procedure, and she was certainly fatigued. But the transplant procedure had been done a week ago and she still felt lousy. She collapsed on the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. She couldn't seem to get warm and her lower back was still sore. Every movement brought a new wave of pain over her. She felt flushed and, at times, had a hard time catching her breath. But her main complaint was exhaustion. She slept a lot. She seemed to be getting weaker rather than stronger.

She was thankful that Chase and Sylvia were spending so much time at the hospital with Eric that they couldn't see how poorly she was doing. They didn't need to be worrying about her right now. Eric was doing as well as could be expected, but he was still in the danger zone. His immune system was compromised after the chemo, and he would have to stay in the hospital for the next three months as his body adjusted to the bone marrow transplant.

Marisol had just left for the day. She was the young girl who came to Chase and Sylvia's for a few hours every day to clean the house and prepare some simple meals that could be easily reheated. Sylvia had told her that Marisol's time was a gift from Ranger, Stephanie's husband. Since Sylvia spent most of the day at the hospital with Eric, having someone come in to do the household chores was a life saver, especially now that Corrine was also staying in the house and was too weak to do much.

She heard the front door open and close, and knew that at least one person had come home. A few minutes later, Chase poked his head into her room.

"How are you feeling?" Chase inquired.

Corrine forced a smile. "I'm good. How is Eric doing today?"

"Better. There are no signs of rejection and his doctor said his body is actively producing healthy blood cells. From your cells." He walked into her room and sat in the corner chair. "I can't thank you enough, Corrine. It's really happening. Eric is improving. For the first time since he was diagnosed with leukemia, I see a light at the end of the tunnel. And it's all because of you. You saved my son's life."

Corrine teared up a little. "That makes me happy, Chase. It's been worth it all if Eric's leukemia is cured." She winced as she changed positions on the bed.

Chase frowned as he watched her grimace. He'd tried to talk to her before about her weakened state, but Corrine had refused to discuss it. He tried again. "I know you say you're fine and that you don't want to talk about this, but..."

"I know what you're going to say, Chase, but this is just one of my 'spells,' which I get every so often. They come and go, and then, I am back to normal." She gave him a harsh stare, hoping he would drop the subject. "I'm fine," she told him firmly.

Chase sighed. He'd been told by the doctor to expect Corrine to be fatigued after the transplant, but her condition a week after was more than just fatigue. Her spells seemed identical to the ones their mother had experienced, just before she was diagnosed with congenital heart disease. Patty had died less than a year after her "spells" started. Chase was deeply worried.

Two days later, Chase's worries about Corrine's health proved well-founded. He couldn't wake her one morning and called the paramedics. She was admitted to the same hospital as Eric, with a series of complex tests ordered for that afternoon.

By evening, Corrine had met with the cardiologist and the news wasn't good. If there'd been any doubt that Patty was her mother, it was put to rest with her diagnosis: congenital heart disease. Her particular problem was rare and usually mistaken for something else. According to the cardiologist, the problem could have been treated, if diagnosed, when she was a young girl, but now her condition was acute, and surgery to repair the heart damage was out of the question. The prognosis wasn't what Corrine had been hoping for.

Her diagnosis, although dire, wasn't a surprise to Corrine. Her "spells" had been getting increasingly more frequent and severe each time, but it wasn't in Corrine's nature to give in. She'd kept shrugging off her down times—essentially ignoring the warning signs. However, now she couldn't ignore it any longer.

First, she instructed the doctor to keep her condition confidential. She didn't want to add a new worry to Chase's plate. And second, Corrine called Teresa, her neighbor and best friend in Ohio. Teresa was also the mother of Connor's best friend. Connor was due home from summer camp tomorrow and, unfortunately, Corrine wouldn't be there. She asked Teresa to pick him up when the bus dropped him off and keep him until she could make some decisions.

When Stephanie called Chase a couple of days later to get the latest on Eric, Chase told her that Corrine was back in the hospital. Worried, Steph drove up to Newark to visit her. She found Corrine in the ICU, not in a regular ward, as she had anticipated. As she knocked on the door, Corrine waved her in.

"I'm sorry to see you back in the hospital, Corrine. Chase said it was a problem with your heart?" Steph probed. She noticed the purple bruising under Corrine's eyes and the paleness of her skin. Corrine also looked substantially thinner than she had when they'd found her in Ohio. She was hooked up to several machines, each one blinking and quietly beeping, as they monitored her vital signs.

Corrine nodded and her head fell back on the pillow. "Yeah, my ticker is giving me problems. It does that every now and then. I just need a little rest and then I'll be fine."

Steph was doubtful that she was telling the full truth, but she wasn't comfortable confronting Corrine, especially since she seemed so weak. "Wasn't your son due home from summer camp about now? Can I help with that? Do you need him to be picked up?"

"I've got that handled. A friend of mine in Kipton has already picked Connor up and is taking care of him, but thank you, Stephanie," she said. "It's very nice of you to offer."

A nurse entered the room, pushing a wheelchair. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but the doctor has ordered a second echocardiogram," she said, looking at Corrine. "It should only take twenty minutes or so."

"I'll wait here for you, Corrine," Steph told her, making herself comfortable in a chair in the corner of the room, as the nurse helped Corrine into the wheelchair. Steph pulled out her phone and checked her messages, figuring she could get some work done while she waited.

Only a few minutes had passed when a man entered the room, passing the corner where Stephanie was sitting. He wasn't dressed in a white coat or scrubs, so Steph didn't think he was a doctor or a nurse. She could only see the back of him, but what she saw was impressive. He was tall with broad shoulders, and very lean. He had dark hair, and either a great tan or naturally dark skin. He walked up to the empty bed and looked around. When he turned, Stephanie gasped.

Standing before her was a carbon copy of ... Ranger.

This carbon copy was young, very young. He was definitely under twenty years of age. A young Ranger not yet filled out with the muscular frame Ranger had now. The only thing off about him was his eyes. They were a cool gray, not the familiar warm brown Stephanie was used to. Other than that, he looked eerily like Ranger. Same facial structure, same full sensuous lips, same dark silky hair, same mocha latte skin. Stephanie realized her mouth was hanging open and quickly shut it.

He finally noticed her sitting in the corner. "Oh, I didn't see you there."

Steph stood up, and the man smiled, letting his eyes travel appreciatively up and down her body. His smile widened as his eyes rested on her face. "Hello, sweet thing," he crooned.

Stephanie was already unnerved and then to have this Ranger lookalike leering at her made her even more uncomfortable. She was momentarily speechless.

The young man looked around the room again and asked, "Where is she?"

"C...Corrine?" Steph stammered. "She's ... um, having a test done." She couldn't stop staring at him, studying his face, feature by feature.

"This isn't René Madrid's room?" he asked. "I'm sorry. I must be in the wrong room." He started to leave.

Something clicked in Steph's head. As the realization set in, Steph's knees buckled and she dropped back into the chair.


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

 _ **Eighteen years ago in Ohio**_

 _Corrine enjoyed her new job, so much so that when a few weeks had passed and Mary asked her if she wanted to stay a while longer, she said yes. The need to keep moving, to go to California was gone. Corrine enjoyed living in a small town, getting to know the people who lived in the area. Most were farmers or workers at the quarry. The nearest "big" town was Oberlin, about four miles away. Mary and Corrine would make weekly trips there to buy groceries and other supplies and to run errands. Occasionally, Manny would take them up to Cleveland for the day._

 _Corrine enjoyed the work Mary gave her. It was just routine office work, but it varied from day to day. When she ran new orders down to the quarry, John was always waiting there for her. He made a special point of being by her side as he introduced her to all the workers, including the heavy equipment operators and the stone masons. He even taught her how to operate a forklift and drive a truck. She and John frequently ate lunch together and then, John starting taking her to dinner after work. It was casual at first, but soon became more than that. There was an obvious age difference, but Corrine came across as much older than her seventeen years, and John was acknowledged by the local residents as the proverbial nice guy._

 _Corrine was happier than she ever expected to be. The only thing bothering her was her increasing bouts of nausea. She was throwing up nearly every day, especially when Mary was cooking_ _chouriço_ _, a traditional pungent Portuguese sausage. She'd been able to hide her queasiness from Mary, but she wasn't able to ignore it herself._

 _Unbelieving, she reluctantly purchased a home pregnancy test on one of her trips to Cleveland. When it proved positive, she denied it, even to herself. She couldn't be pregnant. She and John had had some pretty heavy make-out sessions, but they'd never gone all the way. John was too much of a gentleman to take advantage of her. That left ... Carlos! But they had always used a condom. She remembered how adamant Carlos had been about using one each time they had sex, though they were both inexperienced about such things. Obviously, something had gone wrong at least one of those times._

 _Corrine had been physically sick before, now she was emotionally ill. She hadn't thought of Carlos and their idyllic summer together since she'd found her new home in Kipton. She was still hurt that Carlos had left her without saying a word, so it was easier to just not think about him. Her time with Carlos seemed like ages ago, but it had only been a few months._

 _She seriously considered fleeing again, going to California like she first planned to, going someplace where no one knew her. She wasn't particularly religious, but her Catholic upbringing and her personal feelings ruled out getting an abortion. She feared she would lose not only John, but also Mary and Manny too, once they found out she was pregnant. Panic kept her silent. She knew she couldn't keep it a secret forever, but she couldn't bring herself to tell anyone for fear it would bring her world crashing down around her, again._

 _So, Corrine's life went on as usual, except for the constant worry that her secret would be discovered. She was a normally thin girl but by the time she was four months along, her jeans began to get tight on her slight frame. Luckily, the weather had turned cold and she could wear bulky sweaters and jackets._

 _One slow day at work, John was teaching Corrine, or René as everyone now called her, how to operate a skid-steer loader. She had picked up a heavy load of gravel in the machine's bucket and was going to dump it off to the side, but the loader hit a large rock and tipped forward. Corrine was wearing a seat belt, but the sudden jolt threw her body forward and the belt tightened around her abdomen. She felt a sudden pain and cried out. John helped her out of the vehicle, but noticed a smear of blood on the seat of the loader. Pain ripped through Corrine again and she doubled over with a loud groan. John swept her up in his arms and raced to the nearest truck. There was an urgent care clinic in Oberlin and that's where he took her, despite her protests._

 _John was forced to wait outside the trauma room, while the doctor gave Corrine a thorough examination, including an ultrasound. While the baby seemed fine, they kept her under observation for several hours. John paced outside the entire time, ignorant of Corrine's condition. When the nurse finally told John that Corrine could go home, he rushed to her room. As John opened her door, the doctor was giving her last minute instructions and advising her to stay off her feet for the next twenty-four hours. The doctor also advised her to see her obstetrician as soon as possible to monitor the baby's progress. John quietly backed out of the room._

 _They were both quiet on the drive back to Kipton. John dropped her off at Mary's house, only telling Mary that Corrine had to stay in bed for the next twenty-four hours. When Corrine heard John say that, she knew he'd heard everything the doctor had told her. He knew her secret. Worried, Mary insisted that Corrine take the rest of the week off. Depressed, Corrine stayed home and agonized about telling Mary the truth. She also agonized that John hadn't stopped by or called her. Her worst fears were coming true. When Mary got home Friday evening, Corrine met her on the porch._

 _"I have something to tell you," Corrine started._

 _Mary sat down on the porch swing and noticed that Corrine's backpack was by the steps._

 _Corrine paced back and forth several times. Finally, she gulped down a huge breath. She looked at Mary and then closed her eyes. "I'm pregnant," she said. She felt Mary's hand close around her own. When she opened her eyes, Mary said, "I know. I've known for some time now. I was just waiting for you to tell me." Corrine's knees nearly buckled and she sat down on the swing next to Mary. As the tears started to fall, Mary took her in her arms and let her cry._

 _When Corrine got herself under control, she said, "I'm packed and ready to go. I'd appreciate it if you'd tell anyone who might care that it was simply time for me to move on. No one needs to know the real reason." Corrine stood and picked up her backpack._

 _"And you're leaving because...?" Mary left her question hanging._

 _"I think it's obvious," Corrine told her. "I'm going to be an unwed mother. A teenaged unwed mother. I can do without the stares and looks of pity. And the whispers behind my back."_

 _"I think you're selling the good people of Kipton short. They've come to love you. Do you really think they won't accept you now?"_

 _"Do you?" Corrine said, her head down, her shoulders sagging._

 _Mary stood and put her arm around Corrine's shoulders. "Yes. From the moment you walked into my life, I knew it was meant to be." Her voice faltered. "You are my redemption for my René. For all the wrong I did with her. You are my second chance. This baby will be loved, just as you are."_

 _Corrine sobbed again and Mary hugged her again. Mary chuckled. "I guess I'm going to have to get used to this. Pregnancy hormones seem to bring out the waterworks." Corrine started to laugh and then had a fit of hiccups. They both laughed._

 _"Let's go inside and eat our dinner. Manny must be starving by now," Mary said. "It's supposed to be a surprise, so please don't let on tomorrow night when people show up here for your birthday party."_

 _"What?" Corrine cried._

 _"We couldn't let you turn eighteen without a celebration. It won't be anything too fancy, but you know us Portuguese. Any excuse to throw a party." She patted Corrine's hand. "As for your other news, that can wait for another time. Please don't worry about it, though. It won't make any difference to us."_

 _The next evening, neighbors descended on the Oliveiras household with an assortment of potluck items, each cook and baker trying to outdo the other. Corrine was surprised when John joined the party. He immediately sought her out, kissing her on the cheek and smiling broadly at her. She flushed bright red, not knowing what to make of his presence and his overt friendliness._

 _After the food had been eaten and the birthday cake sliced and consumed, it was time to open the presents. The gifts were inexpensive and most were handmade. A hand-knitted scarf, a handmade scented candle, bubble bath beads, a small bottle of perfume. John's gift was the last one. When he brought it over to her, he got down on one knee. The crowd immediately went quiet, all eyes glued to the couple before them._

 _John cleared his throat once and then once again before he could speak. "René, you captured my heart the moment you jumped into my truck in that parking lot in Cleveland. I couldn't take my eyes off of you then, and nothing, I mean, nothing has changed since that day. I love you, René, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"_

 _There was an audible gasp in the room, but the crowd stayed silent, waiting with bated breath for Corrine's answer. Corrine, however, was too shocked to say anything. Finally, she grabbed John's arm and pulled him up and toward the door. "We need to talk," she hissed. "There's something I have to tell you." John planted his feet, stopping Corrine in her tracks. "There's nothing you could say that will change my mind. I know!" he said, looking meaningfully at her. "I know everything I need to know about you. I love you, René. Do you love me?"_

 _She nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "But..."_

 _"There are no buts. You love me and I love you. You're now eighteen. I've been waiting until this day to ask you."_

 _"John, we have to talk..." Corrine pleaded._

 _He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "I know what you are going to say, and it makes no difference to me. I love you no matter what." He straightened and then got down on one knee again, this time tearing the wrapping from his present. He opened the hinged box so she could see its contents and asked her again, "Will you marry me?"_

 _Corrine looked from John's earnest face to the small diamond ring sparkling up at her. How could she refuse? Nodding, she whispered, "Yes."_

 _"Could I hear that again, a little louder?" John asked._

 _Corrine laughed and said loudly, "YES!"_

 _The crowd of neighbors went wild, clapping, whistling and talking all at once. Everyone rushed in and congratulated the newly engaged couple. After a half hour or so of additional celebrating, everyone finally went home, and Mary and Manny disappeared into their bedroom._

 _John and Corrine sat on the couch, holding hands. "John, we really do have to talk."_

 _"Okay. Let's talk."_

 _"I'm pregnant."_

 _"I know."_

 _"The baby isn't yours."_

 _"I know."_

 _"Doesn't that bother you?"_

 _"No. I love children. I want a whole passel of them. With you." He kissed her._

 _"John, what did I ever do to deserve you?" She kissed him back._

 _"When is the baby due?" he asked._

 _"The first week in May. At least that's what the doctor said after he examined me this week," she told him._

 _"You don't have a regular doctor?" he asked. She shook her head. "Well, that's going to change," he said. "My baby is going to have the best of care, the best of everything. So's my wife." He kissed her again. "May, huh? Well, that speeds things up a bit. I'm thinking we get married on New Year's Eve. That will give me a few weeks to make my house presentable for you. I need to buy a new bed." He grinned shyly at her. She blushed. "Do you want a queen or king-sized bed? Or maybe a California King?"_

 _Corrine shook her head. "Not a California King. I'm done with anything to do with California. I'm happy right where I am."_

 **Present Day Newark**

"Are you all right?" he inquired, dropping down on one knee before Stephanie. He peered into her face.

All Steph could do was stare at him, her mind racing a hundred miles an hour.

"Do you want me to call a nurse?" he asked.

Steph shook herself out of the trance she was in. _It couldn't be!_ her mind screamed. But the proof was, literally, staring her in the face. "I don't need a nurse," she told him. As she continued to search his face, she asked, "What ... what is your name?"

"My name?" The man looked puzzled. "Are you sure you're all right?" When she nodded, he stood up and started for the door again.

"Wait!" Stephanie cried. "You said that you thought this was René Madrid's room. It is."

The young man looked around the room and then back at her. "Where is she?"

"She's having a test done. She should be back shortly. I was waiting for her."

"And who are you?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"My name's Stephanie Mañoso. I'm a friend of ... René's. And your name is..."

He studied her for a minute. "I'm Connor Madrid."

 _Connor!_ Stephanie was glad she was sitting down. Her breathing quickened as her assumptions were confirmed. This was Corrine's son! Her _little_ boy! He wasn't so little, and he certainly wasn't as young as expected. Which meant his father...

"I...I'm glad to finally meet you. I thought...I thought you were at ... um, summer camp?" she stammered.

"Camp's over," Connor responded. Stephanie didn't say anything, she just continued to stared oddly at him. He filled the silence. "I volunteer as a counselor for a two-week stint each summer. The camp is for kids with life-threatening illnesses. I've been doing it for several years."

"That's admirable," Steph told him, trying to regain her composure. There was an awkward pause. Finally, Steph asked, "Does your mother know you're here?"

"No. When I got home from camp, I heard she was in the hospital. I drove straight here. Mom obviously didn't want me to know, but I got it out of Teresa. She's my mom's friend in Ohio," he explained. He looked directly at Stephanie. "How is she ... really?"

The door swung open and Corrine entered, wheeled in by a nurse. "Connor!" Corrine exclaimed.

"Mom!" Connor rushed to Corrine's side and threw his arms around her. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, gripping her hand and bringing it to his lips. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Let me get her back in bed and then you can talk," the nurse said, helping Corrine transfer from the wheelchair to her bed. The nurse got her propped up with several pillows behind her and then got her reattached to the heart monitor. Steph started to leave with the nurse, but Corrine stopped her.

"Stephanie, stay, please," Corrine pleaded.

Steph lingered by the door, her eyes traveling between Corrine and Connor. Mother and son looked nothing like each other. The only thing Steph could see that they shared was their gray eyes. Other than that, Connor was the spitting image of his father. Did Ranger know and not tell her? Or had Corrine kept that a secret from him? And if that were the case, how would she ever find the words to tell him? She continued to watch them from across the room, feeling uncomfortable, like she was eavesdropping on a private conversation.

Connor pulled up a chair close to Corrine's bed, and Corrine focused on her son. "Connor, what are you doing here? How did you get here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I drove the truck here. Teresa was vague about why you were in the hospital and what you're doing in New Jersey. Mom ... what's going on?"

"I don't want you to worry, Connor..."

"Too late, I'm already worried," he told her.

Corrine's head dropped back on the pillows, and she closed her eyes for a minute.

"Mom?" Connor leaned forward.

Corrine rallied and told him, "I'm just tired. I don't want you to worry. The doctor thinks ... he thinks I have a little problem with my heart. They're running some tests."

"Your heart?" Connor questioned. "Why are you here in New Jersey? We have doctors in Ohio. Are you seeing a specialist or something?" Connor asked.

Corrine smiled at Connor and reached for his hand. "You know I grew up in Newark?"

Connor nodded. Corrine took a deep breath. "Well, I came here because of family."

"I thought all of your family was dead. I remember you saying you left New Jersey when your father died."

"That's right, but he wasn't my only family."

"But you said..." Connor began.

"I might have glossed over a few facts." Corrine looked down at her hands. She was nervously picking at the bed sheet that covered her lap.

"What facts?" Connor asked.

Corrine answered, a little vaguely, "Facts that may surprise you, but I hope will also please you." Connor frowned. She continued, "What I never told you is that I ... we..." she smiled at Connor, "have family still living here."

"I don't understand." Connor continued his frown. "I thought..."

Corrine sighed. "All of my father's family are dead, but ... we still have some relatives living here that are from my mother's side of the family."

Connor's frown increased.

"I have a half-brother," she told him. "Your uncle."

"I have an uncle," Connor stated flatly, but it was more a question than a statement. "Why am I just hearing about this now?"

Corrine let out another deep sigh. "It's a hard story for me to talk about. When I left Jersey, I thought I'd left all of that behind. But it caught up with me. And now, I'm glad it has." Corrine glanced over at Stephanie.

Connor looked over his shoulder at Stephanie, but when he turned back to Corrine, he asked again, "Why now?"

"I had to come back here. It was for a very good reason. My half-brother, Chase, has a son. You have a cousin, Connor." She reached up and stroked his face. "You aren't alone anymore."

"I've never been alone. I've always had you, Mom."

"And I've always had you. You're the light of my life, Connor. Just as Chase's son means everything to him. Your cousin's name is Eric. He's six years old, and he's cute as a button. But he has leukemia." She paused and caught her breath. "He's been really sick, Connor. I mean, seriously ill. He needed a bone marrow transplant. His chances without a transplant were ... well, they weren't good. But as it turned out, I'm a perfect match."

"You came back because of that? To donate your bone marrow to a stranger?"

"Eric is hardly a stranger. He's my nephew, your cousin. And yes, that's why I came. I had to come and help."

"Why didn't you tell me, Mom?"

Another long sigh. "It happened so fast, and I didn't want you to worry. I thought I could come here, give Eric my bone marrow and get back to Ohio before you got home from camp, but it didn't work out that way."

"Damn, Mom. I have a million questions. Why are you still in the hospital? Is it because of the bone marrow you donated? How sick are you? Why didn't you ever tell me about my uncle and cousin? And who is she?" Connor glanced back at Stephanie.

Corrine gave him a weak smile. "All in good time. First things, first. I donated my bone marrow and Eric is doing so much better. The doctors think he will make a full recovery and be cured of his leukemia, but he will have to stay in the hospital for several months. I want you to meet him. I want you to get to know your cousin, and your uncle. They're good people."

"Okay..." he started, "But..."

"Be patient with me. I'm getting there." Corrine squeezed his hand. "Now for the difficult part. My past. You know I was raised by my father."

Connor nodded. "You said your mother was dead and that your father raised you himself."

"I ... I wasn't exactly truthful about that. I'm not proud of ... not being entirely straightforward with you, but..." Corrine expelled a loud breath. "I have no excuses, except that my past is a painful subject for me."

"So, your mother _is_ alive?" he asked.

"No. She's dead. She died not long after I left Jersey. I just learned that a few weeks ago, when Chase and Stephanie found me."

"Who is she?" He glanced back at Stephanie.

"She's a friend of your uncle," Corrine said. "Connor, meet Stephanie. Stephanie, this is my son, Connor." They both nodded to each other. "Stephanie helped Chase find me. She is good at finding people." Corrine smiled at Steph. Steph fidgeted, but didn't say anything.

"You said she _found_ you. So, your brother didn't know where you were?"

"When I left Jersey, I left everything behind, including my family. I wasn't close to them, and I was still grieving the loss of my dad. I left and didn't look back."

"I don't understand, Mom. I always thought it was just you and your father. I want to know why you told me your mother died when you were born. And why you never mentioned that you had a brother."

Corrine was silent for a while. When she started talking, her eyes filled with tears. "First, I need you to know that I had a great childhood. I loved my life with my father. I wish you could have met him and he, you." She reached up and stroked Connor's cheek.

"Mom..."

"Okay, I'm getting there." Corrine sighed. "My father never married my mother. My mother had me when she was very young, too young to really take care of me. I always thought it was because she didn't want me. I've learned since then that she desperately wanted me, but her parents wouldn't allow it. They wouldn't let her get married to my father, and they wouldn't let her keep me. Plus, I don't think my mother and father were truly in love. They accidentally created a baby, but I don't think they were ever thinking about marriage. I was ... I was a mistake. But, my father wanted me. He took sole custody of me and raised me alone, and we were so happy. I never really got to know my mother. I saw her a few times growing up, but it was always awkward. It wasn't until my dad died that I got to know her at all. I was forced to live with her because I wasn't considered an adult yet. I spent the summer before my last year in high school with her. She was married and had a son. My half-brother, Chase."

Connor blew out a big breath. "This is a lot to take in. So, we both lost our fathers when we were in high school." Corrine closed her eyes, but didn't answer. Connor continued, "Did Dad know about your past?"

She opened her eyes and replied, "John knew some of it, but he, too, assumed my family was dead. He never knew about Chase."

He was quiet, reflecting on what he'd learned so far. "Are you sick because of the transplant?" he asked.

"No. I was really tired after the transplant, but this," she waved her arm at the quietly beeping machinery around her, "is because of something else."

"Your spells?" Connor queried.

Corrine nodded. "It seems my spells were a bit more serious than I thought. I have a problem with my heart. Turns out I was born with it, but it was never diagnosed properly. I always thought I just had a heart murmur."

"It can be fixed, right?" Connor asked, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. "They have pills you can take, or maybe surgery?"

"I'm afraid not, Connor. If it had been caught sooner, maybe. But now, there's nothing any one can do."

"What are you saying?" When she didn't say anything, Connor cried, "Mom...?"

"It's going to be all right, Connor," Corrine said, trying to soothe her increasingly distraught son.

"How's it going to be all right?" he almost shouted. "You're in the hospital, hooked up to all these machines, and you tell me there isn't anything anyone can do. How does that make it all right, Mom? Be honest with me. How sick are you?"

Her tears finally fell, streaking down her cheeks. "Oh, Connor... I'm so sorry..."

"NO!" Connor yelled, rising abruptly. He stared hard at Corrine, crying, "NO!" again, and then ran from the room.

"Connor!" Corrine shouted after him, leaning forward in bed, her arm outstretched. She cut her eyes to Stephanie. "Go to him. Please," she pleaded. "Help him understand." She collapsed back on the bed.

Not having any idea how to help him understand any of what had just been dumped on him, Stephanie ran after Connor.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

 **Present Day Newark**

As she ran down the hospital hallway, Stephanie tried to put herself in Connor's shoes. While he looked like an adult, she knew he was only seventeen, still young enough to be terribly shook up after hearing everything his mother just told him. Also, knowing his mother had lied to him about their family was bad enough, but then, realizing his mother was ill and that there was nothing anyone could do to help her, had him reeling. And, Stephanie had another piece of the puzzle of his life that would totally mess with his mind if...when he found out about it.

But for now, Stephanie needed to help Connor deal with his mother's dire diagnosis. It took her nearly ten minutes to find him. He was outside, on the backside of the hospital, pacing up and down the walkway that separated the parking lot from the back hospital entrance. As she approached him, he glared at her. His eyes were red and a little swollen.

"This is all _your_ fault," he spat out. Steph stopped in her tracks, a look of confusion across her face. "You're the one who found my mom. If you hadn't found her..." He bit hard on his lower lip, the pain distracting him from the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

"I'm sorry, Connor. No one knew about your mother's heart condition, not even your mother. This was totally unexpected," Stephanie told him.

"Yeah, right," he jeered. "You got what you wanted. You and this half-brother of hers. You got her bone marrow. What do you care what happens to her now?"

"Of course we care. Chase is devastated that his sister is so ill. He was about your age when his mother—your grandmother—became ill with the same condition. He knows what's facing your mother now. From what I understand, your mother's heart problems have been getting worse for months. She calls them her 'spells,' but they are part of her heart disease. Unfortunately, it's just now been diagnosed."

"Diagnosed? Big fuckin' deal! She's _dying_ , dammit! My mom's dying ... isn't she?" The anguished look on Connor's face struck Stephanie hard. She took a step toward him, but he immediately held his hand out and she stopped. He shook his head back and forth, biting his lip. He stared at Stephanie, pain evident in his eyes, his posture, his gestures. She wanted to hold him, comfort him, but he waved her off.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Words are so inadequate." He was still staring at her, as if she could say something that would take away his pain. "I understand it's a lot to take in. Your mother was only trying to protect you, but she needs you now. She needs to know you forgive her, for keeping this from you. You are her only concern now. She loves you, Connor, more than anything in the world, more than her own life."

Connor finally looked away, his eyes blinking rapidly, trying to hold back the tears. He looked so much like his father that Stephanie had to remind herself that this was not Ranger. This was a young boy who'd just learned his mother was dying.

He turned from her, his hands gripping the railing along the walkway. "She kept so much from me. I had family... and... she didn't tell me. Since my dad died, it's just been us, just Mom and me. It would have been nice to know there was more, that I ... that I had other family." He shuddered and took a deep breath, and then another one. "I'm not a child. I could have handled it. I've been taking care of her for years now. Mom's never been the most ... adult person. Don't get me wrong. She works hard and she's always been there for me, but, sometimes, I've felt like the parent."

"I wish I had some magic words, something that would make all of this go away. But I don't." Steph moved closer and laid her hand over his. She gave a gentle squeeze. "All I can tell you is what I've said before. Your mother loves you, and she needs you. You don't have to be strong all the time. You just have to be there. Be with her."

"I don't know if I can do that. I mean, watch her die..." His voice was barely a whisper.

"I know it's a trite phrase, but try to remember, take it one day at a time. That's all any of us have anyway."

Connor glanced over at her, muttering, "Damn!" His body shuddered again and a quiet groan escaped his pursed lips.

Stephanie placed her hand on his upper arm and gently turned him toward her. She reached up and embraced him, drawing him close. He buried his face in her hair, and Stephanie could feel the tension in his rigid body finally relax a bit. She expected tears, even sobs, but Connor fought those expressions of grief. After only a few seconds, he pulled away, seemingly embarrassed by allowing himself even that brief release.

She gave him a few moments before asking, "Are you ready to go back in? I know your mother is worried about you."

He nodded and turned toward the hospital entrance. Steph followed him in all the way back to Corrine's room. She watched as Connor went to her bed and pick up his mother's hand. Corrine had been asleep, but opened her eyes at his touch. She smiled at her son and they hugged. Stephanie stepped out of the room, relieved at the touching mother/son scene.

Steph found Chase in Eric's room and told him what had just happened. And then she knew it was time to return to Trenton and to Ranger. She let out a deep sigh. She had no idea how she was going to tell him about this new development. How was she going to break the news that Ranger's yesterday would soon become his tomorrow?

Stephanie shook her head. Who could have ever predicted this outcome when she started the search for Chase's half-sister?

 **Present Day Trenton**

Stephanie left the hospital in a daze. Her phoned dinged notification of a text and her heart dropped to her stomach. Ranger. She felt only slightly better when she read his text saying that Julie would be spending the night at his parents' house. That was good. She had no idea what would happen that evening, but she knew it was good that Julie would be gone. She'd left Connor with his mother, presumably to work things out between them. Chase would join them, and he would be surprised at Connor's age. They'd both assumed Connor was much younger. His age along with his appearance had shocked Stephanie so severely, she'd almost fainted.

She wasn't ever untruthful with Ranger, at least not on a normal day, but today wasn't normal. She quickly texted him back and told him she needed to go see her family and would probably eat with them. She told him she'd be home early in the evening. And then she went to her parents' home.

A half-hour later, armed only with her driver's license and a twenty-dollar bill in case of an emergency, she pulled out of the driveway. Her purse was tucked safely under the seat of her Macan, which was parked in front of her family home. All her trackers had been left behind, and while she felt guilty about deceiving Ranger, she had the need for some uninterrupted solitude. She had some thinking to do.

While her mind was working overtime, her hands on the wheel were on autopilot, and it was with true surprise that she found herself in the lot of her old apartment building. She backed into a corner space and turned off the ignition. The window of her apartment was curtainless. Still no occupant. She was glad of that, for some reason. The Bat Cave was her home and while she didn't want to go back to her old apartment, it was comforting to know no one else had moved in. There was a tap on her window. She moved her gaze away from her apartment to see Mr. Woleski. She rolled her window down.

"How ya doin', chickie?" he asked.

"I'm doing good," she said. "I just came to take a look at my apartment."

"Did you get kind of sentimental about the old place? I'll tell you, it ain't been the same since you've been gone."

"You mean you miss me?" she asked, summoning a grin.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he said, grinning back at her. "What I really mean is that it's real quiet. No car bombs, no flame throwers, no gunshots. Come to think of it, it's been sorta boring without you." He chuckled and gave her a wave as he started off toward a Buick that was twenty years old and still twenty years newer than the one she sat in.

Stephanie rolled the window back up and wondered why she'd ended up at her old place. Maybe she was subconsciously looking for an escape, if Ranger went ballistic when she told him. She hadn't a clue as to how he would respond, but wasn't there a saying about killing the messenger? And without a doubt, she was going to be the messenger. He had to be told.

She started the car and pulled out of the lot. Her mind was in a jumble with thoughts partially forming only to be pushed out by a new thought. Julie was planning to take over RangeMan. They'd just talked and laughed about it a few days ago. Suddenly, Julie was second-in-line. Now there was a possible new contender to the throne. How would this impact her? Would Ranger even tell Julie?

Once again, she was surprised to see where she had driven. She'd unconsciously left the Burg and turned on to Slater Street. She was startled to see a wooden stork decorating Joe's lawn with a blue fabric bundle dangling from its beak. Alison had had the baby. A boy. Joe was the father of a new son—just like Ranger. No, not like Ranger at all. She drove by slowly, fighting the urge to stop. She didn't belong there anymore, and she didn't want to. She liked her life just as it was. And while she hoped her life would stay the same, she knew it would change. A son changed everything.

Maybe she was worrying too much about it. Connor had been raised by two parents in what sounded like a loving relationship. Maybe he wouldn't relish news of his biological father. Maybe he wouldn't even want to meet Ranger. Maybe. But she still had to tell her husband.

As she drove by Joe's house, she saw a light come on in the living room. It was early evening. This was a working-class neighborhood. Wives would be fixing their husbands' supper. Husbands would be sitting with their feet up on the coffee table enjoying a beer. In her neighborhood, Ella would have stocked the fridge with food that would just need to be heated for dinner. Ranger was probably decanting a bottle of his favorite Cabernet, and getting ready to eat alone at the island in the kitchen. An unfamiliar pang struck and she was shocked to realize it was longing for the simplicity of her previous life.

She banished the thought as soon as she had it. She loved Ranger, she loved the Bat Cave, and she truly loved her life. It didn't take a psychology degree to understand she was worried Connor would change everything. She needed to plan, to figure out how she was going to tell Ranger.

She turned the corner off Slater and headed toward Hamilton. Might as well make it a trifecta. She was disappointed and relieved at the same time to see the bonds office was dark when she drove by. It would have been a big temptation to share her news, to garner advice on how to tell Ranger, to see what Lula would do. But she owed it to Ranger not to share the news with anyone but him. She hit the accelerator and headed for the Burg. Time to change cars and go home to her life.

Ranger looked up from the overstuffed leather armchair. He closed the book and stood to walk toward her. "How was your family?" he asked.

"Oh, fine. What were you reading?" she asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"Nothing important. A technical manual on a monitoring product RangeMan may purchase. Did you remember to say hi to Edna from me?"

"I did. She had a date tonight. I don't know where she finds them." Stephanie dropped her purse on the couch and met Ranger in the middle of the room.

Ranger took her in his arms and kissed her lightly. "You seem a little edgy, Babe. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Fine."

"What did your mother fix for dinner?" he asked. Her stomach chose that exact time to make its empty status known.

She placed her hand over her midsection as if to hold in the growl. "I, uh, didn't actually eat."

"I see," Ranger said. He was quiet for a moment and then said, "If you ever want to go into your apartment I have the key. RangeMan has it leased for the next couple of years. I thought it might be a good safe house or just an extra apartment to place visiting staff."

"My apartment?" she responded with a stomach that was not only empty, but that had now dropped to her toes.

"Your apartment," he repeated. "You were in the parking lot for so long I wondered if you wanted to go in, but when you drove by Morelli's, I was thinking maybe you were upset about his recent fatherhood."

"Wait," Stephanie said, pulling out of his embrace. "I need to think."

"About what?"

"About whether to be more pissed off that you've got a tracker on Big Blue or that you think I'm upset about Joe!"

"Babe, I've had a tracker on the Buick for years. If you need some time off the grid, you need to tell me. I can back off."

"Maybe you should back off right now!" she exclaimed. She wasn't sure why she was so crazily incensed that he'd known where she was. "You were baiting me. Why didn't you just say you'd been tracking me?"

"Why didn't you tell me you needed time off the trackers?" he countered.

"I was upset," she said. The tears were threatening. "I needed some time to myself to think things through."

"So, it is Morelli you're upset about then?"

"Fuck Morelli!" Stephanie shouted uncharacteristically. "I'm upset about Corrine."

She saw his eyebrow lift in surprise. Whatever he'd thought, it wasn't that. She needed to regain control of her temper. If she didn't, she'd end up shouting the news and that wouldn't be good.

He came to her again and put his hands on her shoulders. "What is it, Stephanie? What's got you so upset that you had to run away from home?" The concern in his voice had tears forming in her eyes.

She shook her head and felt her curls tumble over her shoulders. She pushed her hair back and began to speak, haltingly. "It's Corrine. You know she's been ill?" He nodded. "Today, I…" Her stomach growled loudly.

Ranger took her hand and led her to the kitchen. She'd been right about the red wine. He poured her a glass. "Sit here," he instructed. "There's a plate for you. I'll warm it and you can tell me about Corrine."

"Okay." She sat and drank from the proffered glass. Liquid courage. "Corrine is more than sick," she said. "She has a heart condition. The same one that killed her mother, and it's killing her. The doctors said there was nothing more they could do. It's just a matter of time." She paused to take another swallow of wine and to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"This was caused by the transplant?" Ranger asked, a frown marring his forehead. "That's bad. She saved the life of her nephew at the expense of her own."

"No. That's not it," Stephanie said. "It's unrelated to the transplant. She's been having what she calls 'spells' for years, and now it's too late to do anything about it. Until she came here, she had no idea how serious it was or that her mother had had the same problem."

"That's terrible," Ranger said. "I'm sorry, Babe. I know you've grown close to her in the short time you've known her."

"I have," Stephanie agreed. "And I feel bad for her, but that's not all of the story."

Ranger slid a plate in front of her. "Eat. The rest of the story will wait."

"Okay," she said. He didn't realize he was throwing her a lifeline. Giving her more time to figure out what to say. She ate in silence while he watched. Finally, she pushed her plate away and looked across the island to her husband.

"You know she has a son?"

"Yes," Ranger said.

"Well, he's a little older than I thought. He showed up unexpectedly today, and when he saw his mom he was shocked at her appearance. A friend of hers told Connor, that's his name, where she was. She'd kept the details of her family in New Jersey a secret. So, Connor was hit with a double whammy. First, he finds out he has an uncle and a cousin, and then he finds out his mom is dying. He just lost his dad not all that long ago and he's really, really upset."

"That's understandable," Ranger said. "Where is he now?"

"I guess he's with Chase. I'm not sure. He came alone, but he needs someplace to stay. Corrine told me she'd take care of the details, so I left the hospital so they could have some privacy."

"He came alone? How old _is_ this kid?" Ranger asked.

"Seventeen."

Ranger stilled for a moment and Stephanie knew he was doing the math. She pushed her chair back and stood. She wrapped her arms around her middle. "I, uh, I think, I mean I know ... he's yours. He's your son," she ended in a rush.

Ranger didn't move a muscle. His face was completely blank. Finally, he spoke. "That's not possible."

"It is possible, isn't it? You told me you were lovers. When I saw him I thought it was you. He looks enough like you to be your twin, not your … your son. Except he has his mother's gray eyes." She watched as her husband processed the information. She couldn't tell what he was feeling. He was quiet and still. Even when he finally spoke, his voice was the same, quiet and unemotional, no hesitation or stammering.

"My doppelganger, but with gray eyes. A seventeen-year-old son whose existence I've known nothing about." His gaze intensified as he studied her. "You believe he's my son?"

"I do."

"I told you, I don't believe in coincidence," he said harshly, stepping away from her. "This is beginning to look less and less like coincidence and more like a plan." He turned and picked up his keys from a basket on the counter and walked through the door. Stephanie was left standing at the kitchen island with her half-eaten dinner in front of her. She ignored it but picked up the wine glass and drained it. What had he meant by that? And where had he gone?

She was pacing to and fro in the living room, walking not quite straight lines. She'd helped herself to two more glasses of wine since Ranger left. She'd wondered if he'd gone to confront Corrine. Surely, he couldn't believe this was a plan to dump an unknown son on him. Corrine's surprise when she had seen Connor and her concern for his well-being had been genuine. Stephanie was sure of that.

When her phone rang, she jumped to pick it up. It was Tank.

"Ranger's in the gym with me at RangeMan," he told her. "I don't know what's going on and I'm not going to ask. So far it seems unlikely that he's going to tell me."

"Is he okay?" Stephanie asked.

"Yeah, except for bleeding knuckles from trying to destroy the heavy bag without gloves. He's trying to work something off. I haven't decided yet whether I'm going to get in the ring and let him have a go at me."

"Don't let him hurt you," she cautioned.

Tank's deep baritone laugh rumbled from her phone. For once she took no pleasure in the melodious sound.

"That's not likely," Tank said. "Don't worry. I'll get him home safe."

"Thanks, Tank," she said. "And if he does want to talk—you should listen."

The nervous energy that had been keeping her going left abruptly with the end of the phone call. She made her way up the stairs and took a long hot shower. Certain that she would be awake all night, she climbed between the soft sheets to wait for her husband's return. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

She came awake when the mattress dipped next to her. Ranger slid his hands up under her nightshirt. She could feel his roughened knuckles and remembered Tank's call. He bent his head to hers and put his mouth on her lips. When she opened her mouth in acquiescence, he deepened the kiss while he lowered his hands. He spread her thighs apart and moved his body over her. When he felt her readiness, he grunted with satisfaction and slid inside her. She wrapped her legs around him and arched to meet him when he began to thrust. It was hot, impassioned lovemaking that left her satiated and hopeful. They made love twice more before she fell asleep again, but they didn't talk.

In the morning when she awoke, Ranger was sitting in the armchair, his fingers steepled in front of him. He was watching her sleep as he had so many times in the past. She leaned on one elbow and pushed a mop of curls out of her eyes. Ranger smiled at her, looking tired, but somewhat at peace.

"Do you really think Wren—Corrine has no idea that you are married to me?" he asked.

"I don't think she does," Stephanie said. "I don't think Chase had any other motive for bringing her here but to save his son's life. I don't think he had any idea that Connor was as old as he is. We both thought Connor was near the age of Eric."

"There's only one way to know for sure," Ranger said. "I'm going to the hospital, to see Corrine."


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18**

 **Present Day Newark**

Ranger paused outside of Corrine's hospital room. He'd hoped to avoid this reunion, but after the bomb Stephanie had dropped on him last night, it was unavoidable. The ripples of shock were still coursing through him.

He had a lot of blank spots in his memories from his teen years. Those early years had been a difficult period in his life, with a lot of emotional upheaval. But the one thing he'd been sure of was that he had always practiced safe sex. Well, except for that one fucked up night with Rachel when he was twenty years old and too drunk and too arrogant for his own good.

But he had a very clear memory of being fifteen and entering the neighborhood drugstore on a hot muggy day in June. He'd tried to appear cool and nonchalant as he walked over to the prophylactic aisle, sure that a thousand pairs of disapproving eyes were following his every move. He'd been a virgin and he had no idea what he was doing, but he did know enough to use a condom. And as tough as he'd wanted to think he was, buying his first condom had been a daunting task for a fifteen-year-old.

He didn't think about those years very often. There weren't too many pleasant memories. But the girl he'd once known as Wren was an exception to that. She had been a bright spot in his troubled teen years. And now, she was lying in a hospital bed, possibly dying, on the other side of the door where he stood.

He had no idea what to expect, but he had to know the truth. Had she given birth to his son—seventeen years ago? Did he really have a son?

Stephanie was one hundred percent sure that this Connor Madrid was his flesh and blood, but Ranger wouldn't believe it until he saw it with his own eyes. Pushing open the door, he took his first look in eighteen years at the girl he knew as Wren. What he saw shocked him. He recognized her but only because he knew this was Wren, this was Corrine Silva. She looked much older than her thirty-five years. She was not just thin, but gaunt. Her eyes were sunken, with purple bruising underneath. In short, she looked terrible.

Corrine looked up as the door opened. She was stunned when she saw who entered. Her heart began to pound out of her chest. She knew immediately who he was. He was the spitting image of her son—the grown up version of her son. _Our son_ , her mind amended. How did he find her? Why was he here? And what exactly did he know?

"Carlos?" she whispered.

"Wren."

"I haven't heard that name in years," Corrine said. Her hand strayed to her hair, unconsciously smoothing it down. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. He was even better looking now than he was at age fifteen, and that was saying a lot. "What are you doing here, Carlos?"

"I came to see you," Ranger stated. "How are you feeling?" He came into the room and stood at the end of her bed.

"As good as can be expected, under the circumstances," she told him, a frown drawing her brows together. "How did you know I was here?"

Ranger paused, debating on how to broach that topic. He decided to feel her out. "My wife told me. She's kept me apprised of your case."

"My case? Are you a doctor? Is your wife one of my nurses?" Corrine questioned.

Ranger could detect no subterfuge in her. "No, I meant the investigative case she was working on for Chase Fields. My wife is Stephanie Plum Mañoso."

"Stephanie?" she uttered, her eyes widening, her mouth hanging open. "Your wife is Stephanie?"

"Yes. And like I said, she told me about finding you, and you coming back to New Jersey for Chase's son. And she told me about your son."

"Oh my!" she uttered on an exhale. For the first time since he'd entered the room, Corrine let her gaze drop from his face. _Does he know?_ she wondered, her heart beating faster.

"I'd like to hear more about your son," he said.

 _He knows, or he suspects,_ she thought. Realization struck her. If Stephanie was his wife and Stephanie had seen Connor, she would have seen the similarities between her husband and Connor. Corrine herself hadn't realized just how similar the two were until Carlos had walked into her hospital room a few minutes ago. Their likeness was uncanny.

A feeling of dread washed over her. This was her worst fear. She waited for his explosion of anger over her keeping the fact from him that he had a son. And then, what really ramped up her stress was imagining Connor's reaction to learning the man he'd always thought was his father, wasn't. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

All her years of living in denial, of ignoring the truth, were descending on her all at once. Maybe she'd just have a massive heart attack and be done with all of this drama. She waited, but nothing happened. Opening her eyes, she saw that Carlos was still standing at the foot of the bed, a worried look on his face.

"Are you all right?" he asked her. "Do you need anything? A nurse? Some water?"

She shook her head. "No," she replied, "but, please, close the door."

Ranger reached behind him and pushed the door shut. "Is he ... is your son here, in the hospital?" he asked.

Again, she shook her head. "Connor—that's my son—is staying with Chase and his wife. I don't expect him for another hour or so."

He paused and then said, "I need to know, Wren, ... or should I call you Corrine?"

"Corrine's fine."

"Corrine, then." Ranger leaned forward and gripped the bed's foot railing. "I need to know if he's mine."

"No beating around the bush, huh? Just the facts, ma'am. You were a no nonsense kind of guy back then. I see nothing has changed."

Ranger didn't say anything. He just stared at her. Corrine shifted her hips, trying to sit up a little straighter. The movement caused her to cough, a deep crackling emanated from her lungs. Ranger immediately stepped around the bed and pulled a pillow off the top of a cabinet and tucked it behind Corrine's back.

"Thank you. It feels like I've been lying in bed for months instead of days. And with all these machines beeping around me, this place is _really_ depressing."

Ranger pulled a chair up to her bedside and sat down. "Corrine, I'm sorry you're in the hospital, and I'm sorry you're so ill. I know this must be a hard time for you. And I apologize for pushing, but I have to know. Is Connor my son?"

Unable to delay the inevitable any longer, she nodded, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She braced for his anticipated outburst of anger. There was only silence. She waited and watched Ranger closely. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. His face was devoid of any telltale emotion.

When he finally spoke, she was surprised at what he asked. "Does he know I'm his father?"

She shook her head. "No." She saw the first hint of emotion on his face, as he gave a slight frown. She needed to explain, to make him understand what had happened all those years ago. "I got married a few months after I left Newark. My husband raised Connor as his son. I never saw any reason to tell him anything different."

"Stephanie told me that your husband passed away a few years ago."

"Yes. John was killed by a drunk driver. It's been just Connor and I since then."

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" he asked.

Corrine paused. This was more like what she'd been expecting. "I didn't know I was pregnant until after I left New Jersey," she told him. She looked away and sighed deeply. "When I found out that you had left, I was devastated. We'd become so ... close in such a short time. I couldn't stay in Jersey-too many bad memories. I left shortly after you did. It wasn't until several months after that that I found out I was pregnant. I didn't know how to get in touch with you, or that you'd even care." She stared at him, daring him to contradict her.

Ranger leaned back, his voice turning cold. "You didn't think I'd care to know I had a child?"

Corrine's jaw tightened. "You left Newark and didn't bother to let me know you were going, let alone know where you were going. How was I supposed to tell you anything?"

"Once you knew you were pregnant, did you even try to contact me?"

"Like I said, I had no idea where you were or how to get in touch with you." When Corrine spoke next, her nostrils flared and she pursed her lips. "Based on your swift and silent departure from Newark, I had no reason to think you'd care, about me... or anything else." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Ranger. He stared back. Minutes went by.

"This is unproductive," he stated. "We need to decide how to proceed." Ranger stood and placed the chair back against the wall. When he turned to face Corrine, he was all business. "I can provide financially for you and our son, but I want to meet him. Do you want to talk to him first and tell him about me, or do you want to do this together?"

Corrine was not pleased. "After all these years, you think you can just come in here and take over? Tell me what to do? I don't take orders from you. I don't take orders from anybody."

"I want to meet Connor," Ranger reiterated.

"Well, today's your lucky day," Connor said, as he strode into the room.

Ranger swung around, facing the young man that had just entered the room. While his face remained blank, inwardly his body reacted to his first look at his son, because the man standing before him was definitely his flesh and blood.

Connor stopped short when he got a good look at Ranger. "Wow, you look a lot like me! Who are you?" He glanced over at his mother. "Do I have another uncle? What other surprises are you going to throw at me, Mom?"

Ranger held out his hand. "Carlos Mañoso," he said, intently studying the young man in front of him.

"Connor Madrid," Conner said, shaking Ranger's hand. "Dude, it's amazing. We look just alike." Connor looked Ranger up and down, grinning as he continued to stare. Even when he spoke to his mother, his eyes stayed glued to Ranger. "Is Uncle Chase adopted or something? 'Cause I don't look anything like him, but this guy ... Wow!"

Corrine had been darting her eyes back and forth between the two of them, shocked at how alike they truly were. She swallowed, fear making her mouth dry. She'd give anything not to have to tell her son the truth. "Connor," Corrine said. "Carlos isn't your uncle, but he is related to you."

"Well, duh!" Connor replied. "That's obvious. How are we related?" He glanced at his mother. When she didn't answer, he looked back at Ranger, a frown beginning to form.

Corrine dropped her head and took a deep breath, but a racking cough began as she exhaled. Both men started toward her, but she waved them back. One of the machines started beeping a little faster.

"Mom, take it easy," Connor told her. Her cough subsided after a few moments, and he asked, "Is he from your dad's side of the family?"

Unable to speak, she shook her head and took several deep breaths. "Carlos is your..." Corrine started coughing again and it took a few moments for her to catch her breath, but she forced herself to continue between gasps. "He's your ... biological father."

Connor stood still, a confused frown on his face, before loudly exclaiming, "What?" He stared at his mother for a long while before he strode over to her bedside. "Are you shittin' me?" His voice was loud and shrill, and Ranger saw the distress on Corrine's face. The monitor in back of her showed her blood pressure and heart rate going up. He reached out to pull Connor back from the bed.

Connor swung around and jerked out of Ranger's grasp, his shoulder bumping hard against Ranger's. "Get your fucking hands off me," he growled. The man and boy faced each other, each waiting for the other to make a move. They were both the same height, but Ranger had at least thirty pounds on his son, all in muscle. The tension between them was palpable.

Suddenly, an alarm bell rang out and they both turned their eyes, seeing the flat green line scrolling across the monitor in back of Corrine's bed. The door burst open and a nurse rushed in. "Code Blue!" she yelled to the team that was quickly assembling in the room.

 **Present Day Trenton**

Steph paced back and forth between the foyer and the kitchen, unable to focus on work or lunch or even the magazine she kept picking up and then putting back down, as her nervous energy forced her to keep moving. Ranger had been gone since early morning, and it was now afternoon. He hadn't called or texted her once. That could be good news or it could be really bad news. She wondered how his meeting with Corrine had gone, and if he had been able to meet his son yet. So many questions!

She debated about calling him or even calling Chase, but decided against it. Ranger should be home soon. Julie had stayed overnight at Ranger's parents' house in Newark, and Ranger was supposed to pick her up and bring her home sometime after lunch. Would he tell Julie about Connor on the ride home? How would Julie react to learning she had a half-brother, especially now since she was having trouble with her stepfather and felt like she was playing second fiddle to her two half-siblings?

Suddenly, she heard her ringtone, but couldn't remember where she'd left her phone. Racing through the house, she tracked the ringing phone to the foyer. She must have dropped her handbag on the sideboard last night when she'd returned from her reflective sojourn down memory lane.

She wrenched the phone out of her purse and looked at the display. She answered quickly, "Julie!"

"Hey, Steph," Julie responded. "Where's Dad? We were supposed to go to lunch, but he hasn't shown up yet. I left a message on his phone, but he hasn't gotten back to me. I thought I'd call you to see if you knew where he was?"

Steph hesitated. Finally, she said, "Your dad had a meeting in Newark this morning. It must have run late." In the middle of her call with Julie, she got an incoming call signal. "Hang on, Julie. Ranger is calling me right now. Let me answer it and then I'll get back to you."

She put Julie on hold and answered the new call. "Babe," Ranger said, "I need you to pick up Julie for me. I'm already late and I'm sure she must think I've forgotten about her."

"As a matter of fact, she just called me to see where you are. I've got her on hold. Things must have gotten complicated with Corrine. How's it going?"

"Not good."

"Have you met Connor yet?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

"Let's just say there was no 'Congratulations, you're the proud father of a bouncing baby boy' moment. I really don't want to get in to it over the phone. I won't make it home until after dinner. Would you pick up Julie for me?"

"Ranger, I..."

"Please, Babe. I'll explain when I get home. I have to go now."

Steph stared at her phone. Ranger had hung up on her. What the hell was going on?


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19**

 **Present Day New Jersey**

Sofia poked her head out the front door and gave Stephanie a quick wave as Julie slid into the passenger seat. "Grandma says hi, and she's sorry she doesn't have time to chat," Julie said. "She has a hair appointment and she's late. Thanks for rescuing me. She was going to make me go to the salon with her! What happened to Dad? He was going to take me to lunch and then let me watch some of the guys work the monitors."

Stephanie smiled at the thought of Julie with her spiky blue-black hair at Sofia's salon, and then she smiled even wider at Julie's appearance. She was not Goth today, except for her eye makeup. Her denim shorts were well worn and tight-fitting. The gray t-shirt looked to be older than Julie. And the shoes were classic nineties with a wedge heel and a straw inner sole. "Your dad got caught up in some unexpected business," Stephanie told Julie. She knew that was an understatement, but decided for the moment not to go into more detail on Ranger's absenteeism. "Did you have a nice visit with your grandparents?"

"Yeah. I had fun with all my cousins. They came over yesterday. There's a ton of them!" Julie exclaimed. "I knew Dad's family was big, but ... wow!"

Stephanie chuckled. She'd felt the same way the first time she'd met Ranger's large Cuban clan. "I'm glad you're getting to know your dad's family. They are really nice people and they love you," she said. She glanced over at Julie. "Where'd you get your outfit?"

Julie grinned. "I borrowed it. It belonged to Tia Celia. Grandma said she thinks Celia forgot she still had clothes there."

"It's a change from your normal look," Stephanie commented.

"You mean because it's not black?" Julie asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, I decided to take Lula's fashion advice," Julie said, still grinning.

"Uh oh!"

"Yeah, uh oh!" Julie said with a giggle. "I'm not trying to look like Lula, but I am following her advice to try out new looks."

"I see," Stephanie said. "You're sort of in a fashion transition period." She grinned at Julie and was pleased to see an answering smile.

"I hadn't exactly planned on this outfit, but it was hot today and I didn't really want to wear my leggings and boots."

"I get that," Stephanie said. "In fact, I have an idea bubbling. I don't know if you'd be up for it, but I'd love it. Would you like to play hooky and go to the beach this afternoon?"

"The beach?" Julie questioned. Stephanie thought she heard a note of excitement in the girl's voice.

"The beach," Stephanie affirmed. "I don't know if that sounds good to you, because you probably go to the beach a lot living in Miami. It's just that when life gets complicated, I like to go to the beach and it's calling me today. I've got plenty to do in the office, but it can wait one more day."

"We rarely go to the beach at home. It's mainly just for tourists. I'd love to go, but I didn't bring a suit with me. And I was kind of hoping we'd work for a while this afternoon. I need some spending money if I'm going to change my look."

Ranger had been upset the last time Julie mentioned she had to work for spending money, Stephanie remembered. She didn't know how much money Ranger paid in child support, but she knew it was generous. Julie shouldn't have to work to buy her own clothes. The girl was only thirteen!

"I'm not prepared to go, either," she told Julie. "The idea just hit me, and if we go all the way back home we will be losing a lot of time. I have another idea though." It wasn't long before a Walmart sign caught her eye. She wheeled the Macan into the parking lot and turned to Julie. "Being married to your dad has its perks. The budget can afford a little impromptu shopping, and you don't need to worry about a clothing allowance while you're here. I've got you covered." Less than a half-hour later they left the store with beach bags, sunscreen and bathing suits, laughing as co-conspirators in an unexpected adventure.

"I was disappointed when you said Dad couldn't make it for our lunch date," Julie said. "But this is much better!"

"The beach _is_ great," Stephanie agreed. "I'm surprised your family doesn't make outings to the beach though."

"My family's outings always center around my sister and brother and their activities," Julie said. It wasn't a complaint, but rather a statement of fact. It wasn't the first time she'd alluded to being overlooked in the family dynamic, and that had Stephanie concerned.

"What kind of activities?" she asked Julie.

"Well, my sister is a good soccer player so we always go to her matches. And my brother is good at baseball, so we always go watch him pitch. Mom and Dad, I mean Ron, think he might be good enough to make it in the pros someday."

"What about your activities?" Stephanie asked. "Don't your parents support you?"

"Yeah, sort of," Julie said. "My mom always goes to my piano concerts."

"Piano!" Stephanie exclaimed. "I didn't know you played piano. That's awesome. You're so talented!"

"I'm okay. I mean I'm no Alma Deutscher."

Stephanie nodded as if she knew who Alma Deutscher was. "So, you play the piano. What other hidden talents do you have?"

"Uh, not any others … really."

Stephanie heard the hesitation and she knew there was something else Julie was interested in. "What?" she insisted.

"There is one other thing I like to do," Julie admitted. "I'm pretty good, I think, but not too many people know about it."

"What?" Stephanie asked again, growing more curious.

"Martial arts. I got to take lessons for a while and my teacher said I had lots of potential. I started out with judo, but I also tried aikido and a couple of other forms. I'd really like to start again. Do you think Dad might help me this summer? He knows martial arts, doesn't he?"

"He does," Stephanie said. She thought Ranger would be pleased to find out Julie had an interest in martial arts. "Did you stop because you were spending the summer here?"

"I stopped because Ron said it was too expensive, and that it wasn't an appropriate activity for a girl." Once again, the statement was made as fact, without rancor, but it set off alarm bells in Stephanie's mind. On top of everything else going on in his life, Ranger was going to have to do some investigating into Julie's home life.

Later, when they were lying side by side on their newly purchased beach towels, Stephanie found herself wondering what was going on with Ranger and Connor. And she was wondering how it would change both her life and Julie's. It might have been a cowardly move to suggest the beach, but Stephanie had told the truth when she said the beach was her go to place in times of complications. The feel of the sun warming her skin and the sound of the ocean always soothed her and made life and its problems seem a little less worrisome. She hadn't figured out yet how she was going to tell Julie she had another brother, but Julie was owed the truth. This parenting stuff wasn't easy. While she was pondering what to say and when to say it, Julie helped her out.

"So, what was it that Dad got caught up with? Regular business, or something more exciting? It isn't something dangerous, is it? He's getting pretty old for that kind of thing."

Stephanie smiled. "He's not that old, but no, it isn't anything dangerous. It's personal. It's—I don't really know how to break this news, so I guess I'll just say it." She paused as she saw the frown on Julie's face. Julie sat up and stared at Stephanie, waiting to hear what Stephanie didn't know how to say.

Stephanie sat up as well and reached a hand out to touch Julie's arm. "Your dad doesn't believe in coincidence. But recently there have been several coincidences that led to your dad getting reacquainted with an old girlfriend."

"Oh, but he loves you, Stephanie!" Julie exclaimed. "You're not jealous, are you?"

"No," Stephanie assured her. "It's not like that. I'm not jealous. Her name is Corrine. He hadn't seen her in a very long time. After they broke up, they both moved and they completely lost touch with one another. When they ran into each other again, your dad found out that … that when they broke up, Corrine was pregnant. He just found out that he has a son."

Julie looked at her with wide eyes. "He has another child?" she asked unbelievingly.

Stephanie nodded. She watched as tears gathered and rolled down Julie's cheeks, leaving a dark trail of melted mascara. Julie wiped them away and looked down to see a streak of mascara on the back of her hand. A small sob escaped as she rose to her feet in a graceful move and ran toward the water. The beach was crowded, and Stephanie watched as Julie moved gazelle-like through the maze of sunbathers. Stephanie's first instinct was to get up and go after her, but she reconsidered and stayed in place on her towel.

She didn't think Julie would appreciate a scene and there might be one if she ran after her. Julie had attracted attention as she sped to the water, but it was just the regular attention any beautiful, statuesque young girl with flawless mocha latte skin in a bright yellow bikini would attract. Stephanie watched her and worried.

It was only about five minutes, but it seemed much longer when Julie made her way back to Stephanie. She plopped on the towel and met Steph's gaze. Julie's eyes were now void of makeup and she looked young. And vulnerable.

"So, he didn't even know he had a son?" Julie asked. Stephanie shook her head. "That's terrible. I feel bad for him. And for his son." She paused and swallowed hard, and Stephanie knew she was trying to keep from crying. "And I feel sorry for me."

"Julie!" Stephanie reached across and briefly hugged her. "This won't change anything for you."

"Oh, but it will," Julie said, knowingly. "I was happy when Mom wanted to get me out of Miami," she told Stephanie. "I wanted to come, but not just for the summer. I was going to wait a while longer before I asked you. I want to live with you and Dad not just for the summer, but for always." She looked like she was going to be sick. "This ruins everything."

"I can't make promises for Ranger, but I think he'd like to have you with us. I'd like it. I don't think your mother would agree, though."

"She might," Julie replied. "My half-siblings get all the attention, and I get none. Mom gets caught in the middle. I thought it would be great to live where I was the only child, but now I've got another little half-brother. It will be the same. I'll just be the responsible older sister that always gets overlooked!" This time she could no longer hold back the tears.

"It wouldn't be that way," Stephanie told her. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a tissue and handed it to Julie. "I'm not saying you can or can't come and live with us permanently. That's not my place. But if you did, you'd never be overlooked."

"You don't know that," Julie said. "I've seen what it's like. Ron's not mean or anything. He just doesn't care about me like he cares about his own children. And my mom doesn't stand up for me, because she doesn't want to make Ron mad. I think she and Ron might get divorced anyway. They're always fighting."

Stephanie's eyebrows rose. She'd been unaware of that. "I doubt that Connor, your half-brother, will be coming to live with us, Julie. He's not your younger brother. He's older than you."

"Older?" she asked.

"Yes. He lives in Ohio. His mother is visiting here in New Jersey and she's become … ill. Your dad went to visit her in the hospital today and that's when he met his son. It's complicated. Connor didn't know that your dad was his father."

"That sucks. So, Dad told him?"

"I'm not sure what all went on," Stephanie said. "I just got a call from him asking me to come get you. He said things had kind of blown up at the hospital. I don't really know much more than that."

"Wow!" Julie said. "This is where you come when your life is complicated, and when I come here my life _gets_ complicated." She laid back on her towel and threw an arm across her face. Julie's voice was muffled as she asked, "How old?"

"How old is Connor, do you mean?"

"Yeah, who else would I mean?" There was sarcasm in her voice. The happy-go-lucky girl of earlier had disappeared.

"I think he's seventeen," Stephanie said.

Julie jack-knifed into a sitting position. "Seventeen! That means Dad was only …"

"Fifteen," Stephanie said.

Julie shook her head. "Fifteen isn't that much older than me. My mom thinks sending me here for the summer will be a maturing experience. She'd have a fit if she knew that Dad was wilder than I ever thought of being."

"Your father is a highly responsible man," Stephanie said, defending her husband.

"He may be _now_ ," Julie quipped. "But when he was younger he got _two_ girls pregnant, even if they were accidents," Julie said. "People can learn from their mistakes, so I guess I'm glad he didn't know about the first one, otherwise the second _accident_ wouldn't have happened, and I wouldn't be here. I guess I should be glad it happened this way."

Stephanie didn't know what to say, so she remained silent. Julie searched in her beach bag and pulled out the t-shirt she'd been wearing earlier. She pulled it over her bikini top and stood. "I think we should go now. I'm not much in the mood for the beach anymore."

"Okay." Stephanie stood and started to gather her gear. She bit her lip and worry lines wrinkled her forehead. She didn't think she'd done a very good job of explaining the situation to Julie. She'd hurt the girl and that had not been her intention. She startled as Julie's arms came around her for a quick hug.

"I'm sorry, Stephanie. This must be hard for you, too. Now you have two unwanted children to deal with."

Stephanie looked up in surprise. "You're not unwanted, Julie. Not by me, and not by your dad. I'm thrilled to have you with us. I'm sorry I had to give you this news, and I'm sorry I didn't do a good job telling you."

Julie reached out and tugged on a wild curl in a move that Stephanie realized was reminiscent of her father. "It's not exactly bad news," Julie said. "It's just news that changes everything for me, and for you, too. We'll have to adjust together." She gave Stephanie a small smile and Stephanie relaxed a little.

They walked back toward the boardwalk in a companionable silence. When they reached the car, Julie said, "Maybe this isn't the time to tell Dad I want to live with you permanently."

"You don't want me to say anything?" Stephanie asked.

"No."

"I'll honor your wishes, Julie, but knowing about Connor won't change how Ranger feels about you. I guarantee it."

"It will, Stephanie. I guarantee it."

The ride home was quiet.


	20. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER 20**

 **Present Day Trenton**

Julie's new beach bag hit the floor with a thump and Stephanie heard a skittering of sand across the travertine tile floor. Ella turned from the stove where she was tending three pots at once. The woman was a marvel.

"You went to the beach," Ella said. "How lovely. It was the perfect day for it."

"Yeah," Stephanie said. "I had a little brainstorm, and Julie liked the idea, so we played hooky from RangeMan." Stephanie saw Ella's eyes briefly take in the bag Julie had carelessly dropped. If she was displeased by the small mess it had made she gave no indication.

"Leave your bags in the laundry room and I'll take care of them," she said, indicating the bag still slung over Stephanie's shoulder. "I thought maybe you'd like to dine al fresco tonight on the patio. But then, maybe not, since you've been in the sun all day."

"It sounds great to me," Stephanie said. "Do you want to eat outdoors this evening?" she asked Julie.

"Yeah, whatever," was her laconic response. Stephanie shot her a quick look. Julie had been quiet on the drive home, and Stephanie had respected that. The girl had just been given a lot to think about. Stephanie hadn't tried to initiate any conversation because she had a lot to think about as well. Judging by the tone of her voice, Julie wasn't dealing with the news of her new brother with much optimism. Stephanie couldn't blame her. She was having trouble maintaining a positive attitude herself, so she couldn't expect more from Julie.

"I don't think Ranger will be joining us," Stephanie told Ella. "When I talked to him earlier he said he'd be home late."

"He'll be here," Ella told her. "He called just a few minutes ago, and said he was on his way. He said he'd tried to call you, but thought maybe your phone was turned off."

Stephanie frowned as she reached into her bag. She pulled out her phone and looked at the display. "Dead battery," she said.

"You two go get cleaned up," Ella said in a motherly fashion. "Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes. And Julie…" she paused a moment, "Louis has been working hard for you. Your room is now a beautiful lavender!"

"Tell him thank you for me," Julie said to Ella. "I'll go up now and look at it."

"Be down for dinner in a half-hour," Stephanie said to her retreating form. "Sorry, Ella, for the sand." She pointed to where Julie's beach bag lay on its side.

"Not a problem, dear, I'll take care of it. You go on up and get yourself ready for your husband." Her eyes slid upward and Stephanie realized what a day in the sun and sea breeze had done to her curls. She grinned and nodded her head in understanding.

A little more than half an hour later, Stephanie was in the kitchen plating the dinner Ella had prepared. She opened a bottle of white wine and poured herself a glass. She was nervous, waiting for Ranger to come and tell her what had happened. She couldn't imagine why he'd had to spend the day with Corrine and Connor, but she was anxious to find out. She looked up as she heard someone come into the kitchen and turned to greet her husband with a welcoming smile. Her smile froze.

"What is it?" she asked, immediately concerned by the grim look on Ranger's face.

"Corrine is dead." His tone was flat.

"What? How? I mean, I knew she was very ill, but I didn't expect it would happen so soon."

"It was quick. From what Chase said, her health deteriorated rapidly. Everyone was shocked, even the cardiologist who was treating her." Ranger scrubbed his face with both hands, then ran his fingers through his hair. He looked haggard.

"I can't believe it," Steph lamented. "Poor Connor."

Ranger shot her a penetrating look. "He took it hard. He took everything hard." His shoulders slumped in what Stephanie could only describe as a defeated posture. "I went to get confirmation that Connor is my son," Ranger said. "Corrine told me he was indeed my son." There was a pause as Ranger took a breath. "We had a short period of blame-tossing before Connor walked in. Connor and I both saw the resemblance immediately, and he assumed I was another uncle. When she told him I was his biological father he was understandably stunned. He became ... agitated, and the stress of the situation was too much for her heart."

"Oh no!"

"Yeah," he said. He walked to the counter and took a large drink of the wine Stephanie had poured for herself. "The medical staff let us back in after she was declared deceased. And then Chase walked in, unexpectedly, to find Connor sobbing over the body of his mother. Chase took one look at Connor and then at me, and then shook his head in disbelief. He figured it out immediately, but with the shock of Corrine's death, his brain wouldn't process it."

"But that's not the first time he's seen Connor," Stephanie said. "I'm surprised he didn't figure it out sooner. The resemblance between you and Connor is undeniable."

"It is," Ranger agreed. "Later, when we could discuss it, Chase said he had a strong feeling of familiarity when he first met Connor, but chalked it up to a family resemblance to his mother. It wasn't until he saw us together that everything clicked. I ended up telling him the entire story, of how I first met Wren and how I lost touch, and then how I discovered Wren was Corrine."

Stephanie knew how hard it would have been for Ranger to tell Chase about his relationship with Corrine. He was an intensely private man, and now he was dealing with a situation that wouldn't remain private no matter how much he desired it. There was no denying the relationship between him and Connor.

"Did Connor hear the story, too?"

"No. Chase called Sylvia to come get him out of the hospital. The kid needed some space, and I don't blame him. I fucking needed some, too. I walked with Chase back to the parking garage and I told him the story on the way."

"What happened to Corrine? I mean, to her body."

"She's in the hospital morgue, pending a decision on a funeral home or crematorium."

Stephanie shivered at the thought. "I'm sorry, Ranger."

He shook his head as if to negate her sympathy. "It's a problem of my own making, even if the events that caused today's mess were in another lifetime. One thing is certain…" He took another swallow of wine, "If I had any suspicion that Chase's use of you to find Corrine was anything other than coincidence, today put an end to that line of thinking."

They were both silent for a few moments before Steph told her husband, "Ella made dinner. We were going to eat on the patio, but maybe you're not in the mood for dinner."

"I'm not," he said. "But I haven't eaten all day and I probably need to. I don't want to insult Ella by refusing to eat something she's obviously worked hard to prepare. Where's Julie? Is she eating with us?"

"I'm here, and I am eating with you," Julie said. Both Stephanie and Ranger looked toward the door of the kitchen to see Julie enter the room, walk across to the bar and slide onto a stool. Stephanie was the first to speak.

"I see you're back in Goth mode."

Julie's shoulders straightened, and she tilted her head defiantly. "I never said I was giving it up," she countered. "I just said I'd explore other looks." She swiveled the stool to face Stephanie and crossed her legs, which drew both Stephanie's and Ranger's eyes to the fishnet stockings encasing her long, shapely legs. Julie was wearing a black corset with black satin shorts. The black stiletto boots Stephanie had previously admired made the young girl's legs look even longer.

Stephanie scanned Julie's face. She thought she could see a slight pinkness on Julie's cheeks from the day's sunbathing shining through the pale foundation. That was reassuring. Otherwise, she wasn't sure if she would have believed this was the same girl who'd gone to her room to clean up a short time ago. The black lipstick and heavy eyeliner had also made a return appearance.

"I didn't think you were giving up Goth," Stephanie said. "I really do think it's a cool look. I just thought you were branching out. And what you're wearing is kind of, uh, formal for a casual outdoor dinner."

Julie shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't bring too many clothes with me. I need to shop."

"We'll take care of that soon," Stephanie told her as she looked down at herself. "You make me look kind of dowdy in my t-shirt and capris."

"I thought maybe I should dress up, since I'll probably be meeting my half-brother."

Ranger shot a dark look at his wife. "You know you have a half-brother?" he asked his daughter.

"Yeah," Julie said. "Stephanie told me all about him." She slid off the bar stool and walked across to the counter where the opened bottle of wine sat. She pulled a glass from the rack and filled it to the brim. She raised the glass, but before she could get it to her mouth Ranger's fingers wrapped around the stem and pulled it from her hands, spilling wine down the front of her corset. He flung the glass across the room where it hit the wall and shattered into tiny pieces. Stunned, Stephanie watched as rivulets of wine ran down the wall and puddled on the floor.

"Sorry, Julie, but you're a little young for wine," Ranger said in a voice that was tightly controlled and let both Stephanie and Julie know he wasn't sorry at all.

"Oh, that's right," Julie spat out, her body tensing. "That was one of your ground rules, wasn't it? No alcohol or weed while I was under _your_ roof." She pivoted gracefully on her high heels and walked through the door into the hallway. She turned to look at Ranger from a safe distance, and Stephanie thought the distance was a good idea. She was shocked at the loss of control Ranger had exhibited.

"Lucky for me I don't have any weed in my room, but I do have my Marlboros, and I'm feeling the need for one now." She quickly turned and started to walk away again, looking not at all like a thirteen-year-old girl.

"Julie," Ranger called out. Julie turned again to look at Ranger. "I don't care if it's tobacco, weed or anything else that can be smoked. There will be none of it under this roof."

"What if I disagree, Da— _Ranger_?"

"Don't do it," Ranger warned her. "Don't fight a battle you won't win."

Julie stared at Ranger for a long moment before she continued down the hall, toward the stairs and presumably to her newly repainted, non-Goth room.

Stephanie had to give the girl credit. She was brave. If it had been her she'd have run like hell toward her room. Julie had walked away casually. Stephanie looked at her husband who hadn't moved since he'd thrown the wine glass against the wall. She went to him and attempted to wrap her arms around his midsection. She didn't think she'd ever seen anyone who needed a hug more than Ranger. He pushed her away.

"Do you think it was wise to tell her about Connor?" he asked, though it wasn't really a question as much as an accusation.

Stephanie put her hands on her hips and looked at Ranger. She was both hurt and angry that he'd stopped her embrace, but when she looked at his face, she buried her feelings and answered as calmly as she could. "Despite what Julie said, I didn't tell her everything. I only told her that you'd recently found out that you had a son. And yes, I think it was wise to tell her. She was worried when you didn't pick her up for lunch. When she asked what the problem was, I didn't lie. I also didn't embellish. I told her in a straightforward way without details she didn't need. But now that Corrine has died, I think Julie's going to need the rest of the story."

"I will tell her anything else she needs to know … _when_ she needs to know it," he declared and then he walked from the kitchen and down the hall.

Stephanie stared after him for a long while before she looked down at the broken wine glass. After a deep inhale of breath, she cleaned up the shards. Then she topped off her glass of wine, picked up her plate and headed to the patio. She wasn't going to waste Ella's shrimp scampi. And she knew there was ice cream in the freezer for dessert.

She balanced her plate on her lap, choosing to sit in a lounge chair rather than at the table. But instead of eating the scampi, she stared at the food and watched as a tear fell from her face and landed on the plate. Shocked she reached up to touch her face and realized she was crying. Corrine, her new friend, was gone. What must Chase be feeling right now? And Connor? And Ranger, what was he thinking? He was angry with her for telling Julie. Was he relieved that Corrine was gone? Was he secretly mourning her death? She started eating, not even tasting the food.

Her plate was clean and her wine glass half-empty when a shadow fell over her. She looked up to see Ranger standing at the chair's edge. He was wearing a tight black RangeMan t-shirt, black sweats and his new running shoes. "I'll be back later," he told her.

She wanted to say, "You're leaving? With your daughter upstairs and so upset? With me here and so upset? I lost a friend today. And you're leaving me here to deal with my grief alone?" But she didn't say any of it. She picked up her wine glass and drained it. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Okay," she told him. "Will you be home tonight?" She marveled at the flatness of her tone. No hint of the hurt and anger she was feeling.

"Yes."

He was going to RangeMan, she was sure of it. He'd beat the hell out of some poor unsuspecting merry man, who'd feel honored that the boss wanted to spar with him. This was the second time in as many nights that Ranger had run away, and that didn't set well with her. She got up from the lounge chair and went into the kitchen depositing her dirty plate in the sink. There was ice cream, she remembered. If ever a situation called for ice cream this was it. She had a big bowl, three scoops, with chocolate sauce.

It was late when Ranger pulled the Cayenne into the garage. He looked at the door to the house for a moment and turned instead to the door to the side yard. It was a warm night, typical for this time of year in Jersey. The humidity seemed to be less than usual and the slight breeze was pleasurable against his skin. Tank had given him a workout and then sat and listened in the way only a friend who has been to hell and back with you can listen. He'd felt better after he'd talked with Tank. Until Tank pointed out that while he was happy to listen and let Ranger pound on him, Ranger had a wife at home.

Stephanie.

He'd treated her badly earlier in the evening, and she'd taken it well. He'd seen her tamp down her temper, and that told him she was worried. Her instincts were good, because he was worried about himself, too. He hadn't handled the day well, at all, from Corrine, to Connor, to Julie, and then Stephanie. It would have been easier on him having to deal with a psycho stalker or an armed band of guerillas. He blew out a noisy breath. Losing his temper with Julie and throwing a wine glass against the wall was over the top. Then he'd screwed up again when he rebuffed Stephanie's attempt to comfort him. He'd have to remedy those mistakes soon. Stephanie was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Today, on a day when a past mistake had come forward to punch him in the gut, she'd been there to comfort him and he'd been an ass to her. His loss of control disturbed him. It had been years since that had happened.

The restlessness that had sent him to the gym at RangeMan was less now, but it was still with him. The moon was full, and the soles of his running shoes had reflective strips, and he was aware of his surroundings. In general, it wasn't a good idea to go running after dark dressed head to foot in black, but tonight he would take his chances. He punched in the security code, opened the gate and ran. Exhausting himself through physical exercise had always been his go-to answer for dealing with unwanted emotions.

An hour later, he entered the dark kitchen and made his way to the fridge for a bottle of water. His shirt was wet with sweat and clung to him uncomfortably. He peeled it off and let it drop to the floor. He opened the bottle of water, took a long swig and turned at the slight noise he heard behind him. It was Julie. He almost smiled as he saw that she'd adopted one of Stephanie's habits. She was wearing an oversized RangeMan t-shirt as pajamas. Her face was clean of the god-awful makeup she usually wore, and she looked very much like the young girl he remembered.

"I … I never had supper," she said hesitantly. "I was going to get something to eat. Maybe some ice cream." She came close to him and reached out tentatively, one finger lightly tracing a scar on his shoulder. "Is that from Scrog?" she asked softly. He nodded.

"You let him shoot you, to save me." Again, he nodded.

"I'm sorry, Dad," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "About tonight. I'm really sorry." Her fingers once again traced the scar on his shoulder. "Why did you let him shoot you? You could have died."

"I took every precaution to make sure I wouldn't die," he told her. "But the reason I did it is simple. I love you. I had no choice but to try and save you."

"But you barely knew me."

"You're my daughter. I'm your father. I've always loved you."

"I love you too, Dad." She wrapped her arms around his middle and he pulled her tight against him. He nuzzled the top of her head and it occurred to him that this was the first time in a long time that he'd completely embraced his daughter. He held nothing back. It felt more than good. It felt necessary. It felt necessary that he should embrace his wife as well, but that would have to wait for a few minutes.

"Let's see if there's ice cream," he told her. "I'll have a bowl with you." He opened the freezer and pulled out a carton. He smiled at the flavor. Boston Crème Pie. Stephanie's current favorite.

They sat at the bar, side by side in companionable silence while they ate their ice cream. There was something he had to say to Julie, so after they'd rinsed their bowls he once again pulled her close to him. He placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her gaze to his. He spoke very softly.

"I love you, Julie. Nothing will change that. Not what you learned today, and not whatever happens in the future. I don't know if Connor will be part of my life, or yours, but no matter what comes of that, I love you. You are important to me. Do you understand that?"

She nodded and smiled. "I love you, too." Her eyes remained fixed on his as she took in a deep breath. "Stephanie says she can't say yes. You have to say yes, because it's your decision. The thing is, I want to live with you. All the time. I won't get in the way and I won't smoke. I shouldn't have said that about the Marlboros. I know my mom will let me stay. You can talk her into it. I could still visit her on holidays. Ron doesn't like me. He won't care if I'm not there. You can think about it. I love you, Dad. Goodnight." She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then she was gone, moving so fast that her legs were a blur as she ran down the hallway and up the stairs to her room.

 _What the … She wants to live with me! Ron doesn't like her!_ Ranger shook his head. It was too much to think about. What he would take from it was that she loved him and she didn't smoke. He would deal with the rest tomorrow. Right now, he needed Stephanie. He walked up the same stairs Julie had just run up. His legs seemed leaden. He thought he might be nervous, because he owed her an apology, and what would he do if she rebuffed him as he had done to her earlier? His life was completely fucked up, but he knew he could get through it with her at his side. It had been easy to be honest with Julie. He'd find the courage to be honest with Stephanie.

She was sitting in the middle of their bed, pillows scattered around her. The remote was lying on the floor next to the bed and she was watching Ghostbusters, the new Blu-ray he'd gotten for her last year. She looked up at him and watched as he bent, picked up the remote, and hit the power button.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"For more than I can probably tell you in one night. For not letting you comfort me earlier. For losing my temper with Julie. For Corrine, and for this fucked up mess with the young man who is … my son. For bringing all this chaos into your life."

"I want this chaos in my life, Ranger. I want you in my life. You can talk to me. You don't have to take your problems to RangeMan. You can share them with me. I want to share your joys and your pain."

His heart lightened at her words. "Forgive me," he said. She did.


	21. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER 21**

 **Present Day New Jersey and Pennsylvania**

"I'm sorry, Connor, that I can't go back to Ohio with you. I'll be there for Corrine's funeral, but with Eric's immunity compromised, I can't leave him right now for any extended period of time." Chase ran his hand through his hair, his concern evident.

"I understand, Uncle Chase," Connor told him. "You need to take care of your son. He needs you. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. "

"There's still a lot to be done once you get back to Ohio. I think having Carlos Mañoso go with you is the best thing. He can help not only with the funeral arrangements, but with closing out your mother's bank accounts, and handling things like insurance and taxes. It can get quite complicated and time consuming."

Connor's eyes narrowed at the mere mention of Ranger. "I don't want that man's help. I can drive the truck back and handle whatever I need to by myself."

"That truck is older than dirt. I doubt it would make another long trip." Chase put his hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Connor, I know you're hurting, and still grieving. And then, learning about your father in the way you did wasn't easy, but..."

Connor shrugged off Chase's hand. "He's _not_ my father! My father's John Madrid."

"Of course, and John will always be your father," Chase replied. "But Carlos Mañoso _is_ your biological father. And, like you, until a few days ago Carlos had no idea that he had a son. It's been a shock to him as well. Please, give yourself some time to get to know him."

"I don't need time," Connor spat out. "If my mother had decided she didn't want him in her life—or mine—then that's good enough for me."

"That was a long time ago. You don't know all the details. She also didn't tell you about me," Chase said, looking at his nephew intently.

Connor didn't respond, other than angrily shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Connor, but it's already been decided. Carlos Mañoso will drive you back to Ohio. And then, you're coming back here. It's your decision whether you want to return with me or with him."

Connor shook his head. "I don't want any of this."

"I know. But you can't stay in Ohio by yourself. You still have to finish high school and the best place to do that is here, with family."

"I can get a job..."

This time it was Chase who shook his head. "Without a high school diploma, you can't get a job that would pay enough to support yourself, and besides, you need to concentrate on finishing high school right now. It's important for your future. I'm sorry you can't do your senior year in Ohio, but I spoke with your mother's friend, Teresa, and she's unable to take you in for an entire year. And again, it's your choice whether you want to live with Sylvia and me or with Carlos and Stephanie. Either of us would gladly have you stay with us for as long as you need."

Connor threw up his hands and stomped back to his room, slamming the door. Chase let him go, knowing his nephew needed to blow off some steam and think things through.

...

The doorbell rang and Chase answered it. "Come in, Carlos. Connor's packed and ready to go."

Ranger moved past Chase and entered the living room. "My vehicle's downstairs. Let's get loaded up. Kipton is a good eight-hour drive from here."

"I should forewarn you. Connor is still not happy about having to make the drive back with you," Chase informed him.

"If I was in his shoes, I probably wouldn't be either."

Connor came into the living room, duffel bag in hand, and a sullen frown on his face. He shot a quick glance Ranger's way and then focused on Chase. "Thanks for putting me up, Uncle Chase. And please, tell Aunt Sylvia how much I appreciated her making my favorite dinner last night. Will she be able to come to the funeral with you? I think the best day for it will be this coming Saturday, if the arrangements can be made."

"I don't think so, Connor. Until Eric is able to leave the hospital, Sylvia doesn't feel comfortable leaving him for even one day. But please, know that she'll be sending her love."

Connor acknowledged his uncle's comment with a head nod, then he shifted the duffle and started for the door, ignoring Ranger. Ranger shook Chase's hand and followed his son out the door.

When they reached Ranger's black Cayenne, Connor settled himself in the SUV's back seat directly behind Ranger. He donned sunglasses and earbuds, and had his smartphone in hand. His self-imposed isolation suited Ranger as well. At least they weren't fighting, Ranger mused. Before he could pull out into traffic, his phone chimed.

"Yo," Ranger answered.

"Your tracker on the Cayenne is caput," Tank told him. "It's one of the new ones we're testing out, but we're having problems with the battery shorting out. Stop by RangeMan and we'll swap it out. It'll take two minutes."

"Be there in fifty," Ranger responded. He disconnected and spoke over his shoulder. "We're taking a detour to my company in Trenton."

Connor pulled off his earbuds and complained, "Great. More fucking time wasted."

Ranger found himself rolling his eyes, and then he chuckled to himself. Stephanie was rubbing off on him. That made him think of his wife, home alone with Julie for the next week or so. Julie had seemed to take the news of her new half-brother well, after they'd had their late night talk. At least he had no worries about that part of his life. He knew Stephanie could handle anything Julie threw at her. Glancing back at Connor, he wondered if he could say the same for his tenuous relationship with his newfound son.

Mentally, he shook his head. He was still processing the fact that he had a seventeen-year-old son. He thought he'd been thrown for a loop when he realized he was going to be responsible for an emotional teenager all summer when Julie came to live with them, but now ... he was unexpectedly responsible for an angry, grieving teenaged son who hated him. His thoughts turned to Stephanie again. She'd always been supportive and encouraging regarding his relationship with Julie, but he hadn't had time to talk with her about adding Connor to their suddenly expanding family. How did she feel about his having two teenaged children? Hell, how did _he_ feel about it?

Fifty minutes later, he pulled into RangeMan's underground garage, telling Connor, "We'll be back on the road in two minutes."

Connor didn't respond, but he did take off his sunglasses, taking in the impressive fleet of expensive vehicles parked in the garage. He watched as two well-muscled men in black t-shirts and black cargo pants climbed into a black Ford F-150 Raptor, while another similarly dressed man was vacuuming out a black Porsche Carrera. He almost made a joke about Ranger's obsession with the color black, but bit it back when a massive black man burst out of the stairwell. He was the largest human being Connor had ever seen.

Ranger stopped the vehicle in front of the stairwell door and got out, joining the black man at the front of the SUV. They both ducked down for a minute and then Ranger got back in behind the steering wheel. The black man followed Ranger to the driver's side and glanced at Connor. His eyes widened slightly and then he cut his eyes back to Ranger.

"That should solve the problem," Tank said. "As for signing on Red Roof Inns, I'll handle the initial meeting, but they're going to want to meet with you before they sign on as clients. You'll be back by next Monday?"

Ranger nodded. "Yes. We should be able to wrap things up in Ohio by late Saturday and drive back on Sunday. Go ahead and set up a meeting with Red Roof for Monday. And Tank, why don't you have Stephanie sit in on your initial meeting with Red Roof. She'll give them the royal treatment, and I think they'll appreciate Stephanie's insights into their customer needs."

"Will do, boss." Tank glanced again at Connor, his head dipping slightly in acknowledgment. "We'll handle anything that comes up here. You concentrate on taking care of your son through this difficult time. If you need anything, let me know." He slapped the vehicle's roof once and turned back toward the stairwell.

After leaving Trenton, Ranger took Interstate 78 west instead of Interstate 80, but the total travel time was the same. They would arrive in Ohio by early evening, as planned. Neither Ranger nor Connor spoke a word for the next four hours.

Needing to refill the gas tank and empty his bladder, Ranger exited the interstate and pulled into a roadside stop, somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania. As he got out of the vehicle, he threw back over his shoulder, "This is the only stop before we reach Kipton. I'm going to get some lunch. You're welcome to join me."

Connor stayed in the car for another five minutes before his stomach protested loudly. He slid into the booth across from Ranger and opened the menu, avoiding looking at his father. When the waitress came by, they each gave her their order and then they lapsed into silence, looking anywhere but at each other.

When the food arrived, each tucked in, ignoring the other. Finally, Ranger spoke up. "How's your burger?" Connor shrugged his shoulders and took a big bite. Ranger waited for a verbal response, but none was forthcoming. He finished his meal, picked up the check and threw down a tip, swiftly walking to the register.

Connor didn't leave the diner until Ranger put the gas nozzle back into the pump. He'd cut it close, as Ranger wasn't good at waiting for anyone. Ranger glanced over as his son walked toward the vehicle. He frowned and blocked Connor from getting in the car. "Give me the knife, Connor," he said.

Connor looked surprised at first and then got angry. "It's no business of yours what I carry," he spat out. He tried to step around Ranger, but his father sidestepped, blocking his path again.

"The knife," Ranger insisted, holding out his hand.

"No." A defiant Connor glared at Ranger.

In a flash, Ranger shoved Connor against the SUV with one hand while reaching down with the other and removing a wicked-looking knife from Connor's boot. It was a five-inch, dual-edged steel blade—not something an inexperienced, hot-headed teenager should be carrying. The whole incident took less than three seconds.

"You can't do that. That's mine!" Connor cried, reaching for the knife. Ranger shoved him back against the vehicle.

" _Your_ knife?" Ranger said, challenging his son. "It looks just like the one Chase wears. Are you saying Chase _gave_ you his knife?"

Connor tried to maintain eye contact, but couldn't. His cheeks flushed and his gaze dropped.

Ranger opened the backseat door, his gaze not wavering from Connor. Angrily, Connor ducked into the SUV and resumed his original posture, sunglasses and earbuds on, smartphone in hand. The rest of the drive to Ohio was done in silence.

 **Present Day Trenton**

Stephanie smoothed the dove gray skirt over her hips. Was it fitting just a little tighter than when she bought it? She'd be hitting the RangeMan gym on a more regular basis, she vowed. She remembered her mother's dire warning that the Hungarian genes would take over her hips sometime in her thirties. Well, she was in her thirties.

She glanced at Julie and couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips. She had no desire to traverse her own teenage years again, but it would be nice to have a young firm body; to not think twice about how many doughnuts she'd inhaled at breakfast. To be completely fair, she'd noticed that Julie had inherited Ranger's dietary tendencies. The girl always chose a bagel over a doughnut. Stephanie never chose a bagel over a doughnut. Maybe it was time to rethink her food pyramid. She shrugged on the matching jacket and turned to Julie.

"How do I look?" she asked her young office assistant.

Julie turned from where she was organizing business cards in a rolodex and took in Stephanie's appearance. "You look great. Professional and beautiful. And your shoes make you almost as tall as me!"

Stephanie looked down at her Jimmy Choo pumps. The suede heels had cost more than a month's rent on her old apartment, but she was representing RangeMan and she wanted to look good. This meeting with the Red Roof Inn people was her first big new client meeting and she knew she had to look competent and confident.

"Are you nervous?" Julie asked. "You said business meetings were kind of new for you?"

"Maybe a little," Stephanie admitted. "I've handled meetings with existing clients, but Red Roof is a new client. It's easier knowing that Tank will be with me, and this is just the preliminary meeting. Ranger will be at the next one when all the contract signing is done."

"You shouldn't be nervous about a meeting," Julie said. "It's way easier than bringing in fugitives like you used to."

Stephanie smiled. "You have a point. What are you going to do while I'm out? Do you have enough to keep you busy here?"

"Probably not," Julie said. "But Lester said I could hang out with the guys in the monitor room if I'm quiet and don't disturb their concentration. And later, he's going to let me ride along when they go to check some camera placements at a new installation."

There was excitement in Julie's voice and Stephanie bit back a smile. It didn't sound like the kind of day Stephanie would have enjoyed at Julie's age, but she recognized Julie's desire to be part of her father's life and Julie's enthusiasm would please Ranger, whether he'd admit it or not.

Julie opened the file cabinet in front of her and straightened the files. "You said Dad would be home in time for your next meeting?" Julie asked, careful not to make eye contact.

"Yes," Steph replied. "He thinks he can get everything done that needs doing in a few days. Corrine's funeral is on Saturday."

"It's got to be hard on ... Connor," Julie started, lifting a folder out. "He and Dad must be ... bonding." She still hadn't looked at Steph.

"I hope they are getting to know each other, though I'm sure it's awkward for both of them. They're virtually strangers." Steph scooted her chair over so she was in Julie's line of sight. "Julie, Ranger developing a relationship with his son will not impact your relationship with him. He loves you. Nothing is going to change that."

"I know he loves me, but Connor is his son. Sons come first to a man," Julie scowled. "I found that out the hard way with Ron."

"Ranger is not Ron," Steph told her, trying to reassure her. "The bond you and your dad have is special. No one is going to come between you and your dad. Not even Connor."

Julie nodded, but still wouldn't meet Steph's eyes.

A shadow fell across the room. Stephanie looked up to see Tank filling her doorway. He was dressed in RangeMan black, but not the typical uniform. He was wearing a suit, complete with vest and tie. Ranger wasn't the only one who could pull off the tone on tone look. He had to have had the suit custom-made. It was perfectly tailored and, surprisingly, it gave Tank a man-of-the-world vibe.

"Wow," Julie said. "You look handsome, Tank."

"I concur," Stephanie said.

He grimaced and raised a hand to adjust the Windsor knot at his neck. "Let's get going," he said to Stephanie. "The sooner this meeting starts, the sooner it's over and I can get back to my normal clothes."

Stephanie picked up her small Jimmy Choo clutch, the price of which made her shoes seem like a bargain. "I don't know if I'll be back before lunch," she said to Julie. "I'll have my phone on vibrate if you need me."

"Don't worry," Julie said. "I'll be fine. Knock 'em dead, Steph!"

"Don't knock them dead," Tank said dryly. "They haven't signed yet. And don't worry about Julie. Lester is looking after her."

"Hey, I don't need a babysitter," Julie protested.

"Of course you don't," Tank said with a smirk. "I'm counting on you to keep Lester out of trouble."

…..

Stephanie dropped her clutch on her desk and kicked her pumps off. Expensive or not, they still pinched her toes. She sat in her chair and for the first time since before the meeting, relaxed. It had gone well. Tank had, once again, proved his worth to RangeMan, and she'd been able to assist in his presentation. The meeting to sign the contracts had been scheduled. All they needed now was Ranger, and he should be back in good time to be briefed and attend the next meeting. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she'd been later getting back than she'd planned. Her hand went unthinkingly toward the desk drawer.

The crumpled Tastykake fell from her hand to the desktop as Lester entered her office and slammed the door behind him. "We have a problem, Beautiful." Her face paled at the grim set of his mouth. Immediately, she thought of Ranger. At the look on her face, Lester shook his head.

"It's not the boss, and no one is injured—yet, but there is a situation that has to be dealt with," he told her firmly.

Relieved, Stephanie tore open the Tastykake package and took a big bite. "Okay," she said after she'd chewed and swallowed. "Is it something I need to deal with specifically? I mean something for me and not for Tank?"

"Yep. It all yours to deal with," Lester said. "It's okay for Ranger to threaten to send me to Alaska. He'd probably never follow through on it. I'm his cousin, after all."

"You are," Stephanie agreed, not seeing where he was going.

"There are a couple of new guys who could lose their jobs over this and it's not right. Ranger is usually a fair guy, but I'm thinking he wouldn't be fair about this."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Stephanie said. She popped the rest of the Tastykake into her mouth and sat back to listen to his explanation.

"No idea, huh?" Lester said. "I'll tell you then, and I can show you." He moved around to her side of the desk and nudged her chair aside. His fingers were deft on her keyboard, and suddenly an image of the monitoring room appeared on her screen. "The boss's daughter is a major cock tease," he said bluntly. "And someone needs to rein her in before all hell breaks loose."

"That's crude, Lester. She's just a young girl. You shouldn't say that!"

"Sorry to offend your sensibilities, Steph. You're right. She is a young girl and that's the problem. She may be a kid, but she looks–and acts–like an adult. See for yourself." Lester pointed to the live feed showing on her screen.

Stephanie frowned as she saw Julie leaning over Jimmy, the newest hire, who was sitting in front of the monitor. At first glance Julie was just observing, but after Stephanie watched for a few moments she saw Jimmy turn back and say something to Julie. Julie laughed and then she leaned in close and laid her hand on Jimmy's shoulder in a gesture that was more of a caress than a pat. And at once, Stephanie realized Lester was right. Julie was flirting. But surely simple flirting wasn't to be described as graphically as Lester had. She frowned as she turned to Lester, but before she could say anything, he continued.

"She's been doing this all morning with all of the guys. Most of us can deal with it, but Jimmy is a new hire with lots of potential. He doesn't have a military background, but Ranger saw something in him that he thought was worth taking a chance on. The kid is a hard worker with good instincts. Unfortunately, he doesn't have the instinct to stay away from the boss's daughter. Ranger threatened to send me to Alaska for looking sideways at Julie, but he won't do that because I'm family and he needs me here. Jimmy is a different story."

"You think he'll send Jimmy to Alaska?"

"Hell, no. I think he'll fire him, at a minimum. And that would be a shame. If she's going to be working here this summer, her unprofessional behavior can't continue. You need to talk to that little chicklet, Beautiful. She needs to understand the consequences of what she's doing."

Her sigh was big. She hadn't any experience parenting a teenager, but she could remember being parented. There were certain things she wouldn't do or say, but Lester was right, she had to say something. "Will you go tell her I'm back and I need to see her? I guess we'll have lunch and do some talking." Then she picked up her phone and called Ella.

...

"This place is unique," Julie said as she slid a tray onto the chipped laminate tabletop.

"Unique is a nice word for it," Stephanie replied. "But you can't beat the chicken here. Cluck-in-a-Bucket is good, cheap and quick. When I was bounty hunting, Lula and I used to eat here all the time."

"Is Lula going to have lunch with us today?"

"No, not today. Today it's just you and me, because I want to, well, I have some personal stuff to talk to you about."

Julie's left eyebrow rose in a way that was so reminiscent of her father that Stephanie's breath caught. What was she nervous about? She was the adult here.

"I guess I'm kind of like your stepmom," Stephanie said. "Not officially because you know your dad gave up parental rights so Ron could adopt you?"

"Yeah, I know he did. And my mom has explained why he did it, but I wish he hadn't. Does that mean I can't come live with you permanently?"

"Not necessarily. Your dad, Ranger I mean, would like to have you here. Before, when you were younger, he didn't have the lifestyle to keep you here. He thought you'd be safer living with your mother and Ron."

"I understand that, but Ron is not my father. He doesn't love me like he loves his own children, and as soon as I'm old enough, I'm changing my name back to Mañoso."

Stephanie was quiet at Julie's admission. She hadn't planned on talking with Julie about her Miami family, but it was obviously something Julie wanted to discuss.

"I don't know much about your life in Miami, Julie, but both Ranger and I respect your wishes to stay here. Have you considered how much you'll miss your mother and your brother and sister?"

"Yes. But it's not like I'll never see them again. I'll go visit them on holidays, but I want to live with my dad and you. I want to be the only child instead of…" she quit speaking mid-sentence, and Stephanie realized Julie had just remembered the existence of her half-brother.

"Ranger finding out about Connor has no effect on the way he feels about you, Julie. I said that earlier, and I meant it. It has made the situation a little more complicated though. He hasn't had the time to approach your mom and Ron about your coming here to stay permanently. You're going to have to be patient with him."

"I can be patient if you're sure he really wants me." Julie upended her soda cup. "I'm gonna get a refill. Do you want one?" she asked Steph.

"No, I'm okay." She picked up her cup and swirled the remaining Coke and took a long tug on her straw. _If you're sure he really wants me_ , Julie had said. Ranger did really want her to live with them. To say he had a lot on his plate was an understatement. Stephanie would have to step up and take the lead. She'd do some quiet investigating and see if she could get an accurate picture of what Julie's life in Miami was like. There must be something going on at home that made her want to leave, and while it was really Ranger's place to find out, Ranger was otherwise occupied.

Stephanie watched Julie return from the soda fountain. The girl had a casual grace and carriage worthy of a supermodel. She attracted attention, no doubt about it. The talk she'd originally been planning on having came forefront in her mind.

"Back to what I wanted to talk with you about," Stephanie said as Julie slid back into the booth across from her.

"I was watching you on the feed at RangeMan and … this is kind of embarrassing for me, but I have to ask. Were you flirting with Jimmy while he was working the monitors?"

She saw the faintest flush rise in Julie's face.

"Maybe, a little, I guess. That's probably against the rules, but it's fun. He likes me, I think."

"It is fun," Stephanie agreed. "I've been known to flirt myself, but there can be unwanted consequences. I'm not meaning to give you a birds and bees talk here…"

"You don't need to," Julie broke in, smiling at Stephanie's discomfort. "I've already got the facts on that." She giggled and that brought up another immediate worry for Stephanie.

"Julie! You're not, I mean it's your decision, but you're only thir…"

"I'm not sexually active, Steph. But it's okay that you're asking me. Most of my friends are."

"They are? At thirteen?"

"Yeah, they are. I told Melissa, my best friend, how stupid she was. She had unprotected sex and it happened when she'd been drinking. She worried for a whole month she might be pregnant. That's how I got into the trouble that made Mom send me here early. I was trying to save Melissa from doing it again."

"You're a good friend to her," Stephanie said.

"I am, and I'm smarter than her, too. I'm not going to have sex without protection, and I'm not going to have sex unless I really, really like the guy and he really likes me. Melissa hasn't got it figured out yet. She thinks the only way to get a guy to like her is to hook up with him."

"I'm glad to hear you're smart about it," Stephanie told her. "The thing is, you have to be careful around RangeMan. It's a business and the people who work there not only have to maintain a professional appearance, they have to behave professionally, too. It's not easy to get hired on at RangeMan. Flirting on company time could be a reason to get fired, especially if the flirting is done with the boss's underage daughter."

Julie gave a slight frown, so Steph upped the ante. "Your father is very protective of you. And like most dads, he feels it's his job to look out after you. But he also has to look out for his business, too."

"I get it," Julie said. "I'll tone it down. It's just kind of fun to watch grown men go goofy-eyed at me."

"It probably is fun," Stephanie agreed. "But the men at RangeMan are at least two times your age. You look way older than your years, you know. Jimmy probably doesn't realize how young you are."

"Don't tell him!" Julie pleaded. "It would be kind of embarrassing. I'll stop. I promise."

"I won't tell him," Stephanie assured her. "I'm glad we are talking about this, because I wanted to make sure you understand that making grown men go goofy-eyed can have big consequences. There's a term, cockteaser, have you heard of it?"

Julie's eyes widened and she nodded. "You don't mean me?" she asked.

"No," Stephanie said quickly, feeling only a twinge of guilt at the remembrance of Lester's words. She wouldn't hurt Julie by admitting that _was_ what she meant. "It's just that you want to make sure your actions don't give the wrong idea. Especially to guys who are older and have had some, uh, experience."

"No, I don't!" Julie exclaimed. "I'll stop, really I will!"

"You don't have to stop flirting altogether, Julie, just not at RangeMan. And please, when you do flirt, pick someone your own age … and don't do it in front of your father!" They laughed together, and Stephanie breathed out a mental sigh of relief. That hadn't been so hard.

"You're doing a good job in the office," she told Julie. "I called Ella today and told her to get you some regulation RangeMan uniforms to wear. If you're going to be there you might as well look the part."

"That's great!" Julie said and Stephanie thought, _yeah, great_. A monogrammed polo and loose-fitting cargo pants would take the threat down a notch or two. She knew she could count on Ella to come through for her.


	22. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER 22**

 **Present Day Ohio**

Ranger paced the length of his hotel suite, glancing at his watch every couple of turns. He was late and Ranger was not pleased. Connor had agreed to meet this afternoon to go over last minute funeral details and discuss what still needed to be done. Corrine's funeral was scheduled for tomorrow morning, at the Westwood Cemetery in Oberlin. Kipton didn't have its own cemetery. Corrine's body had arrived at the Oberlin Funeral Home two days ago.

At the beginning of the week, Ranger and Connor had divvied up the necessary tasks and had been working on them, separately, but they hadn't spent any time together since Ranger had dropped Connor off in Kipton the evening they'd arrived. Ranger was staying at a hotel in Oberlin, while Connor was staying with his best friend's family in Kipton.

Finally, there was a knock on the door. Ranger stood back and let Connor into the suite. "You're a half hour late," Ranger said, shutting the door. Connor had his back turned, but Ranger could feel the teen's eyes rolling. He was going to have to get used to rebellious teenagers, since he was now responsible for two of them. Their continual challenge against authority, especially his authority, was going to be a trial. The trick was not to rise to the bait, Ranger mused.

"Got anything to drink?" Connor snarled.

"There's bottled water and a couple of cans of Coca-Cola in the minibar."

"No beer?" Connor asked, bending over to pull a Coke and a can of macadamia nuts from the tiny fridge.

"Not for you."

Connor made an obvious display of rolling his eyes, as he popped open the Coke.

"Let's get started." Ranger gestured to the sofa and then sat down in one of the overstuffed armchairs. Connor sprawled out on the sofa. There was a stack of papers and folders on the coffee table between them.

"You told me earlier this week that you didn't find a will or a trust in your mother's papers at the apartment," Ranger said. "I checked with the lawyers in the nearby towns, and none of them have a René Madrid or a Corrine Silva as a client. Without a will or other directive, normally an estate must go through probate court. However, in your mother's case, that won't be necessary. Her estate doesn't contain enough assets. I submitted a request for a summary release from administration and it was approved."

Connor frowned. It was obvious he had no idea what Ranger was talking about, but he had to respond with something. "You're saying my mom was poor?"

"No. I'm saying her debts and assets cancel each other out. The only asset, if you can call it that, is your truck, and it is worth a hell of lot less than the $5,000 required to kick the estate into probate court. Plus, it is registered in both your names. It's now yours."

"You mean, I could have lost my truck?"

"If there'd been any remaining debt, yes. The courts could have sold the truck to pay down any debt. As for the other things on my list, when I contacted your mother's employer, he told me he'd already given your mother her last paycheck. I contacted your landlord. There was still one month left on your lease, but your landlord was willing to terminate it immediately. I closed the utility accounts and I cancelled your renter's insurance. I also transferred your truck insurance to my personal policy, so you'll be covered in case of an accident."

"You shouldn't have done that. I can pay my own way." Connor glared at Ranger.

Ranger didn't respond. "I cancelled your mother's credit cards and paid off the remaining balances. I searched for any life insurance policies, annuities, investments or other income, but couldn't find any." He looked over at Connor inquiringly, but Connor just shook his head. Ranger had done all of his searches and contacts over the phone or online. It had quickly become clear that Corrine had very few assets.

"As we discussed earlier, I made the arrangements for the funeral. The funeral director said you had dropped off the clothes you wanted her to be buried in. Did you leave a tip for the person who will do your mother's makeup and hair?"

"No. I didn't know I was supposed to," Connor answered, frowning.

"That's all right. I'll handle it," Ranger said.

Connor shrugged, and threw a handful of nuts in his mouth and washed them down with a long swig of Coke.

Ranger took several papers from a folder on the table and offered them to Connor. "These are certified copies of her death certificate. Keep them in a safe place. They will be required for any remaining legal transactions." Connor put them next to him on the sofa.

Ranger continued, "I've already notified Social Security, and the Ohio Department of Taxation about your mother's death, using the name René Madrid. For your information, the Social Security number she used was not the original number she was issued as Corrine Silva. She'd been using the number of Manny and Mary Oliveiras' daughter, René Oliveiras."

Connor looked up at that revelation, a puzzled look on his face.

"I am assuming she took on the identity of the Oliveiras' daughter when they took her in eighteen years ago. Have you talked with Mary Oliveiras since you've been back?"

Connor nodded. "I called and told her Mom had died. I don't know anything about Mom's Social Security number. I know Mary isn't really my grandmother, but I've always called her Grandma. She's always been part of my family."

"I only bring this up because you are eligible for benefits until you graduate from high school."

Connor sat up straight. "You mean, I'll be getting some money? Do you know how much?"

"Based on your mother's salary, it won't be a lot. Maybe a few hundred a month. However, if John Madrid formally adopted you, you could be eligible under his benefits, which I'm assuming would be substantially more money. Did you come across any adoption papers when you went through your mother's things?"

Connor shook his head. He was silent for a few moments before offering, "I found my birth certificate. It lists John Madrid as my father." He stared intently at Ranger as if defying him to say something to the contrary.

"Your mother and John Madrid were married several months before you were born. Entering their names on your birth certificate would have been a natural assumption of the hospital clerical staff," Ranger said. "Are you doubting that I'm your biological father?" he asked. "We can take a DNA test, if you want."

Connor glared a moment at Ranger before looking away. He didn't answer the question, but asked, "If my father ... if John Madrid is named as my father on my birth certificate, doesn't that make him my legal father?"

Now it was Ranger's turn to be silent. When he finally spoke, he said, "Technically, I suppose it would. John accepted you as his son and he raised you as his. From all accounts, he was a good man, a good husband and father. I'm grateful to him and would never take that away from him. But morally, his Social Security benefits do not belong to you. I can provide for you, financially. You don't need his benefits."

"I don't want your money. If I'm entitled to something from my father—from John Madrid—I should get it." Connor leaned back against the sofa cushions, a defiant look on his face as he glared at Ranger.

"We can talk about this later," Ranger stated, deferring the contentious subject until a later date. "How'd you do with your list? Submitting a change of address to the post office? Closing out your mother's checking account?"

"I got all that done," Connor told him. "No problem."

"Good," Ranger said. Connor's assigned tasks were ones where the people involved knew both Corrine and Connor well. Ranger had purposely avoided being seen in public with Connor or handling any of the jobs where he would have to come face-to-face with anyone who knew both Corrine and her son. He was trying to spare Connor the inevitable questions about the obvious physical similarities between himself and Connor.

"Did you finish packing up the apartment?" Ranger asked.

"Yeah. I put all my stuff in two suitcases, the duffel and three boxes. Teresa helped me with Mom's stuff. We took a lot of it to the Salvation Army thrift store." Connor dropped his head into his hands and loudly exhaled. He cleared his throat several times before speaking again. "Her whole life boiled down to a pile of clothes and a few boxes of useless junk." He looked up, anguish and then anger showing in his face. "Is that all life is? Struggling to make ends meet and then you die?"

"Is that how you see your mother's life?" Ranger asked.

"How else am I supposed to see it?" Connor cried. "My dad..." He glanced over at Ranger. "My dad worked hard to make enough money to keep a roof over our heads, put food on the table and clothes on our backs. And then he died. He was only forty-four years old. And Mom was only thirty-five. Is that all I have to look forward to? A thankless, low-paying job and then an early senseless death?"

"Were your parents happy?" Ranger asked.

Connor nodded. "They were very happy. It was embarrassing, sometimes."

"Did your father love your mother? Did they love you?"

Connor nodded again, his face scrunching up, trying hard not to cry in front of Ranger.

"Having a lot of money can make life easier, but it is not the only measure of success," Ranger explained. "I've learned, just recently, how much better my life is sharing it with someone else, someone who loves me unconditionally."

Connor snorted and, for the first time, Ranger actually let a smile show in front of Connor. "Yeah, I know. Sounds ... sappy, especially coming from a cynical bastard like me. But I imagine your father felt the same way about your mother. They made each other's life better. And you...you are just starting your life. Don't close down. Don't let your heart harden. I did that for too many years." Ranger suddenly stopped talking, realizing he was lecturing the boy, trying to impart a little of his newly gained wisdom to his newly found son. He didn't think Connor was receptive to much of anything he had to say at this point.

Eventually, Ranger sat forward. "The memorial service is set for 0900 tomorrow morning at the church. I spoke with the priest and he has everything he needs. As you wanted, I told him that your mother's friend, Teresa, would be singing your mother's favorite hymn at the end of the service. The flowers will be delivered before 8. The service should last about an hour. The burial ceremony will begin at 11. That will give people time to drive out to the cemetery. I spoke with the funeral director and he has all the transportation arrangements in place. Everything is paid for. And since I won't be at the funeral, I've already given the priest an honorarium for the graveside service, so you won't have to worry about that. Did I miss anything?"

Connor frowned. "What do you mean, you aren't going to be at the funeral?"

"I think it would be better if I didn't attend."

"Better for who? You?" Connor cried, standing up. "That's a load of crap."

"I have my reasons," Ranger said.

Connor flung his arm out at Ranger, shouting, "You never cared about my mom, did you? You won't even show her the respect of attending her funeral."

"Corrine will always be special to me," Ranger told him.

Connor practically spat at him as he challenged Ranger. "If you'd cared about her—had any respect for her—she wouldn't have run away. You used her for sex, you got her pregnant and then you dumped her."

Ranger's jaw tightened, but when he spoke his voice was low and soft. "That's not what happened. Your mother and I were very young, too young to be having sex, but we both cared for each other. However, circumstances beyond our control separated us. We both left Newark before she knew she was pregnant, and I never knew. I would have taken responsibility for my actions if I'd known. However, I'm here now."

"Fuck you!" Connor shouted. He spun away toward the window.

Ranger stood. "You can hate me all you want. Your anger won't change the past. Nothing is going to change what happened. But what happens from now on out is in our hands. You can hang on to your hate and anger, you can close yourself off, but you are only hurting yourself. Connor, you've got people who care about you, who want to be there for you."

The agitated teen swung around and let out a _phfft_ exclamation. "You're good at talking bullshit, but that's all it is. Otherwise, you'd show up at my mom's funeral."

"Look, if it doesn't bother you that people will notice, and talk about, our close physical resemblance, it doesn't bother me. But the people who will be at the funeral were friends of John Madrid, and I didn't want any gossip to color his memory or your mother's."

Connor's brows wrinkled, and he let his eyes slide over Ranger's features. He looked away, saying, "Uncle Chase will be at the funeral. I guess that's enough family." He picked up the papers Ranger had given him, downed the last of his Coke and stormed out the door.

...

Ranger hated FaceTime and, in normal circumstances, she'd never bother him with a video call, but Stephanie wanted, needed, to see him. And the second his face appeared on the screen in her hand she frowned.

"We need to talk, but you look really tired," she said. "Is this a bad time?"

"It's usually a bad time when you say, 'We need to talk'," he responded. "But no, it's not a bad time. I've just had a long day of dealing with Connor."

"Is he taking it hard … well, that's a stupid question. Of course he is. He just lost his mother!"

"Yeah, and I'm the most likely target for all of his angst. But he's been staying on task well. He's taken care of his mother's possessions and is ready to move to New Jersey. I've dealt with the legal aspects and after the funeral tomorrow we'll be ready to leave."

"I'm ready for you to be back!" she told him. "Tank and I had the meeting with Red Roof Inns today and it went well, but we missed you."

"Back at you, Babe. I talked to Tank this afternoon. He said you were an asset to RangeMan. I know that, but I liked hearing him say it. How's it going with Julie?"

"Funny you should ask," Stephanie told him. "That's what I'm calling about. Julie really, really wants to live with us, permanently."

"I know that. I have to figure out how to approach her mother with the idea. She won't be happy about it, and if they refuse, I'm not sure what can be done. I gave up my legal rights to Julie when Ron adopted her. At the time it was the right thing to do. I never imagined I'd have a relationship with her."

"You do, though," Stephanie said. "She loves you and wants to be just like you."

"God forbid."

"She's been making comments that have me a little on edge," Stephanie told her husband. "Like, Ron doesn't love her like he loves his own kids, and how she has to work for spending money. I know you're sending money for her support, even though legally you don't have to. Things just don't seem to add up."

"No, they don't," Ranger said. "I need to look into what's going on in her life, but I haven't had the time since Corrine died, and I don't want to delegate it to anyone else."

"Uh oh."

"Uh oh?"

"Well, that's why we need to talk. I know how busy you are. Not only are you dealing with Connor and the funeral, you're going to have to tell your family about him soon, and that pushes Julie's situation down even farther on your list. So, I thought I could help you."

"And…"

"And, after Julie and I spent the afternoon talking, I decided I should see what I could come up with. I did some research. I didn't mean to get into your business, but, you know, I'm kind of good at research." Ranger was silent for a moment, and she stared intently at her phone screen expecting to see the curtain come down over his tiredness. She was ready for the blank face that would let her know Ranger didn't appreciate her foray into his affairs. He surprised her, pleasantly.

"My business is your business, Babe. What'd you come up with?"

"Probably not as much as you would have found, but I did uncover something disturbing. I'll just have to take Julie's word for it when she says Ron and Rachel aren't getting along. I didn't get that kind of information. What I did find out is that Ron's business is about to go under. He's got big financial trouble."

"How big?"

"Big. The recession must have hit him pretty hard, because you'd think someone that sold and installed air conditioning units in Miami would have a good business. He's behind on his mortgage payments on the business warehouse he owns, and he's got overdue invoices for inventory. He's lost a couple of big bids lately, and he's really hurting."

"That's bad," Ranger said.

"There's more," Stephanie told him. "Apparently, he's been struggling for a while, because their personal finances are in bad shape as well. Maybe that's the reason Rachel and Ron aren't getting along. Stress over their finances."

"That's a good guess," Ranger said. "I've heard comments from Julie, too, that they aren't getting along."

"Well, to be honest, I'm not convinced that's why. I'm wondering if Rachel knows how bad things are, because it doesn't seem like they've cut back on their lifestyle any. She just did some major renovations to their house last year and took a second mortgage out to pay for it. They're behind two payments at the present. And Rachel's driving a Volvo XC90, which seems like an unnecessary expense if they're struggling. Granted it's last year's model, and they still owe majorly on it, but that's a pricey car. It makes me wonder if Rachel has the full picture on their finances."

"They owe money on the Volvo?" Ranger asked. She saw the surprise on his face.

"Yeah," she said. "And they're behind on those payments, too."

"I gave her that car, free and clear, last year," Ranger said. "Rachel complained about all the miles she was driving because Julie was involved in so many extracurricular activities, so I had the car delivered to them. It has a high safety rating, and I thought it was something I could do to protect my daughter."

Stephanie was quiet for a moment, digesting the fact that she wasn't the only woman Ranger gave $50,000 cars to. "Well, they must have used the car for collateral to get the cash they needed," she said, "because there is a big loan on it now."

"It seems a trip to Miami is on my agenda as soon as I get home."

"Not before you visit your parents and tell them the story of Corrine, Chase and Connor," she told him. "It must seem as though I'm really deep into your business, but I think they need to know. Julie knows and she spends time with your mom. The news needs to come from you before Julie unintentionally spills it. I'm sorry if I'm overstepping, but…"

"You are deep in my business, but that's where you belong, Babe. We're a team now, and you don't need to worry that I'm upset. You're right about my mom and dad. I'll be home in a couple of days and I'll see them right away. Then I'll head to Miami and tackle Ron and Rachel. And in my spare time I'll run RangeMan." His mouth twitched.

"And when will you make love to your wife?" Steph asked. "Is that a priority, or will I have to wait until after Miami?"

Ranger sighed in response to her question.

The sound tugged at Stephanie's heart. "I miss you," she told him. "I'm tired of sleeping alone. That's not a complaint, exactly. I know you aren't having a great time there."

"I'm not. I've been tying up a lot of loose ends, all while trying to keep a low profile so Connor doesn't have to explain to family and friends why he's with someone he so closely resembles. It's been stressful. I've been running late at night to take care of the stress, but it's not working well. I'm looking forward to being home and letting you take care of some my stress."

"Hmmm," she responded. "I don't run. How am I supposed to take care of _my_ stress? I mean, phone sex is okay, but it can't compare to in-person sex."

Ranger smiled. "You think conversing about _stress_ means we're having phone sex?"

She smiled back, happy to see she'd amused him. And then she grinned even wider. "No, I don't think we were having phone sex." She carefully kept her camera centered on her face as she reached up with her free hand and pulled the elastic from her hair. Curls sprang free and she ran her fingers through them to casually fluff wisps of hair around her face. Then she lowered the camera just a little so he could see her shoulders were bare. "But I think we're getting ready to have phone sex, Batman. A girl has her needs."

"Babe."


	23. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER 23**

 **Present Day**

Ranger powered up the SUV as he entered the stream of traffic on the interstate. Looking in the rear view mirror, he glanced at the vehicle's cargo space filled with suitcases and boxes. After Corrine's funeral was over, Connor had decided to fly back to New Jersey with Chase, and Ranger was transporting Connor's belongings back with him. That suited Ranger just fine. The past week had been a challenging one, not because of the multiple tasks he'd had to do, but because of his confrontational interactions with his son.

Connor's moods were all over the place. Sometimes he talked nonstop, sometimes he was sullen and silent. He was always angry, confused, and emotional. Ranger could understand his moodiness, especially his anger, but it didn't make it any easier to deal with. After the funeral, Ranger had given Chase the knife he'd confiscated from Connor. Chase had been surprised and immediately confronted his nephew about it. Connor admitted to taking the knife, but he didn't have much of a defense. The best Chase could figure out was that Connor felt like he had no control over his life, and was intimidated by Ranger. The two men tried talking to Connor, but the teen was in no mood to listen or be lectured to. After several serious arguments, Connor had finally accepted that he had to return to New Jersey and finish out his senior year of high school and live with either Chase or Ranger. Connor hadn't been ready to make that decision yet, but he'd have to before the summer was over and the school year started.

Part of those heated discussions had involved what Connor could expect if he lived in Chase's household versus Ranger's. Either way, Connor would have his own room, and would be required to attend the local high school and keep his grades up. Connor had stayed with Chase in Newark before so he knew what to expect from his uncle. He had no idea what to expect if he chose to live in Trenton with Ranger. Ranger hadn't said much except that he and Stephanie would welcome Connor in their home. He also told his son that if he ever wanted to know more about his life, family and work, he just had to ask. Knowing how confused and angry Connor was, Ranger wasn't going to force his son to get to know him; it would be up to Connor to initiate those discussions.

He was glad of the seven-plus hour drive home. There would be time to ponder and plan. Stephanie had given him much to think about with the information she'd uncovered about Ron and his failing business. He had wanted to handle the situation quietly, by himself, but there wasn't going to be time, so he pushed the Bluetooth phone button to call Tank, but before he could place the call, one came in. Connor. He had to have just gotten off the plane in Newark. What now? Ranger hit the call button and answered with his standard, "Yo." And then he listened.

Ten hours later when he pulled into the garage he was tired, but felt a sense of accomplishment, and relief at finally being home. Ranger found Stephanie and Julie in the family room engrossed in a TV reality show. He stood in the doorway and took in the scene. The two most important people in his life were sitting side-by-side with a bowl of popcorn balanced half on Julie's lap and half on Stephanie's. Their heads fell back together as they laughed at the misfortune of one of the contestants. Stephanie's laugh stilled abruptly as her hand went up to rub her neck. She turned to meet his gaze and blushed. He smiled as they both remembered their last phone conversation. After a moment, he stepped into the room and into Julie's line of sight.

"Dad!" she exclaimed. The popcorn bowl wobbled dangerously, but Stephanie caught it as Julie untangled her long legs and scrambled to her feet. "I didn't know you were coming back today." Her graceful leap toward him had him smiling and a little of the road fatigue left him. It felt good to have his daughter greet him with enthusiasm. "Did my brother come with you?"

"No," Ranger said. "Connor flew home and is spending some time with his Uncle Chase. But he is going to live with us, Julie." Ranger paused and looked at Stephanie. This was news to her, too, and he wanted to see her face when she absorbed the information. The Bat Cave was filling up. Stephanie's face was for once unreadable, and that worried him a little.

"Connor called me today while I was driving home and we worked out a plan. He'll be a senior this year and he'll go to high school here rather than in Newark where his uncle lives. It will give him a chance to get to know us."

"I'll be a freshman," Julie said. "We might be at the same school."

"You might be," Ranger agreed. "If your mother and Ron agree that you can come stay with us." Again, he looked at Stephanie, who was idly eating popcorn and staring at him and Julie as if they were the new reality show. His life _was_ a reality show, he realized. What had gone on recently was more fantastically improbable than anything they were presently showing on TV. That was a sobering thought.

Ranger reached out and wrapped Julie in a tight hug and then gently set her back at arm's length. "I missed you," he told her. "I haven't had time to talk to your mother, but I plan on rectifying that soon. I'm making a quick trip to Miami tomorrow. If things go well, I will return home with signed permission for you to stay with us indefinitely. If not, you'll be going back at the end of the summer, as originally planned."

"I won't go!" Julie didn't stomp her foot, but her tone suggested that she might.

"Don't fight me on this, Julie," Ranger said. "I'm on your side, but the law says Ron and your mother have custody. I need their permission for you to stay. If I don't get it, we can try to change things from a legal perspective, but that would likely be a lengthy and emotional process. I'd like to avoid that. I'm going to need your cooperation."

"Oh, alright," Julie capitulated reluctantly. She looked over her shoulder at Stephanie and then back at her father. "I'm going to take the popcorn and finish watching this episode in my room. You guys probably want some alone time to talk about me anyway!" She pranced across the room and lifted the bowl of popcorn from Stephanie's lap. Four graceful strides had her out of the room and on her way to the stairs.

Stephanie watched as Ranger crossed the room with strides equally as graceful as Julie's had been. He pulled her up from the sofa and tight against him and bent to cover her mouth with his. The kiss was long and deep and reawakened a need he'd tried to bury on his time away from her. "Phone sex was fun, Babe, but it's no substitute for the real thing," he whispered in her ear.

Stephanie blushed at his mention of phone sex. "I don't know what got into me," she said with her head buried in his shoulder.

"I know what's getting into you tonight," he teased.

Her blush deepened. "Having you home and actually in the same room with me will be much better," she said. "But it sounds like you won't be here for long. You're leaving right away tomorrow?"

"Yes," he said. He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. Once again, he bent to kiss her, but this time lightly. "I'm leaving early and I'll be back late, but I'll be in our bed tomorrow night. That's a promise. And I'd like to get into our bed tonight, as soon as possible, but we need to talk first."

"When I said that to you the other day, you said that conversations that started out like that didn't end up well," Stephanie said. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and held on.

"I didn't exactly say that," Ranger told her, leaning away slightly to look down at her. "After unloading Connor's belongings, I stopped at my mom and dad's."

"You told them?"

"I did." He ran a hand through his hair, remembering their reaction.

"Oh! What did they say? Were they upset?"

"I'll tell you everything," he said. "But I need to eat. I drove straight through and got to their house just as they were finishing dinner. My mother offered to feed me, but I declined. Now I'm starving."

"Let's go to the kitchen," Stephanie said. "I can make you a sandwich. Peanut butter and olive."

"Babe."

"Okay, I just thought I'd try. Ella left some turkey and veggies. I can come up with something healthy. Now tell me what your parents said."

He sat at the kitchen island and watched her put together a turkey and avocado sandwich. As she slid the plate in front of him, he replayed the scene at his parents' house. His appetite was suddenly gone, but he made himself eat. His body needed the fuel. There was another long day ahead of him tomorrow and although he planned on getting to bed soon, he didn't plan on getting much sleep.

"Ranger!" Stephanie's exasperated tone drew him back to the present.

"They were surprised," he said. "Astounded, really. I told them the entire story about Chase, his search for his sister and then the discovery that I had known Corrine a long time ago. I've got a picture of Connor on my phone. I showed it to them and my mom was overwhelmed. She said he looked just like I did at that age. Then she cried."

"I guess that's to be expected," Stephanie said.

"I didn't expect it," Ranger said, looking across the island at her. "I thought she'd be emotional. I thought they'd be curious, maybe a little excited to know I had a son. I didn't know my mother would feel guilty."

"Guilty?" Stephanie asked. "Why should she feel guilty?"

Ranger pushed the plate with his half-eaten sandwich away from him. "She shouldn't, but she feels she might have been partially responsible for what happened all those years ago. She remembers a young girl calling for me, repeatedly. That wasn't uncommon, I guess, and she used to refuse to let them speak to me. Because she thought it was inappropriate for a girl to call a boy."

"My mother would have been the same way," Stephanie said. "She was protecting her young son, at least in her own mind."

"Yeah, and I probably needed the protection, in retrospect," he said. "As I told the story, she remembered there was one girl who called several times. She was bothered because she remembered a note of desperation in the girl's voice, but she can't remember if she told the girl I'd moved or that I just didn't want to speak with her. Mother has convinced herself it was Corrine, and that if she had been more responsive to the girl, I might not have had to wait eighteen years to find out I had a son."

Stephanie was shocked at what Ranger had just said. She reached across the island and picked up the half-eaten sandwich. She took a bite and sat down on the bar stool shaking her head in disbelief. "You don't think it was Corrine calling?"

"I don't know. When I went to the hospital to see Wren, I asked her why she didn't tell me and she said she didn't know how to contact me. It could have been her. It could have been someone else entirely, but it doesn't matter. The past can't be changed."

"So, your mother is upset?"

"That's an understatement. My dad's upset, but I think he's mostly concerned about my mother and her reaction. They want to meet Connor, but I told them that might not happen for a while. I don't want to subject my parents to him right now. His moods are mercurial, to say the least. He's a good kid, I think, but he's got a lot to deal with."

"Mercurial moods run with the teenage years, even in regular circumstances," Stephanie said. "So, he'll be bringing his moods to our house?"

"He will, Babe."

"Well, I'm betting it won't be boring."

"I won't be taking that bet. I think you're right on the money with that guess." He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He drank long and deeply before he turned back to Stephanie. "Are you okay with this?"

She didn't answer right away and he wondered what he was going to do if she said no.

"I'm okay," she said slowly. "I feel sorry for Connor. He's a kid who's just lost his mother and has been thrown into a world he couldn't even have imagined a few weeks ago. I'm not sure how we'll get along, but I'll try my best. He's seventeen, and if things go terribly wrong, well, he'll be old enough to strike out on his own in a year—I mean, worst case scenario."

Ranger frowned at her words. Worst case scenario. He'd never imagined those words being applicable to the first year of their marriage.

"It will probably be fine with Connor. It's going good with Julie so one more under the roof probably won't make much difference," Stephanie continued. "Do you think Rachel will give up custody and let her stay with us? Will you tell her about Connor? I'm not sure I would."

Ranger sighed. "Rachel," he said huskily. "Rachel is actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Uh, Rachel is the part of the conversation that isn't going to end well? She's the reason you said we had to talk?"

"I don't know how the conversation will end. I've brought two mostly grown children into our marriage now, and you seem to be rolling with the punches. You're accepting of whatever happens and I love you for it. If Julie stays permanently, I'll be bringing another person into our lives. What I need to know now is, can you accept it if I bring an ex-wife in as well?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean if Rachel is to let go of Julie, I'm going to have to promise her that she can call, and visit whenever she wants to. That's the only way I can see her agreeing to letting Julie go. Can you handle Rachel being a guest here from time to time?"

"Why would you worry about that? I'm not the jealous type."

"Babe."

"Well, I'm not the jealous type about Rachel. I like her, and not to hurt your feelings, but I think she's immune to your charm at this point. She mostly seems concerned that you're taking good care of Julie."

"I hope she's not too immune to my charm," Ranger said. "I need to convince her to let Julie come. And that brings us back to the point of having Rachel in our lives."

"I hadn't thought of it," Stephanie admitted, "but you're right. She'll need to be able to come see Julie, and … I'm okay with that. Maybe I'll call her tomorrow night after you are back home and let her know that she's welcome here."

"Yeah, wait until I'm home. If they don't let Julie stay, then she won't be welcome here."

He looked at the empty sandwich plate and held back a grin. Stephanie had eaten at least half the sandwich she'd fixed for him. When she noticed his gaze, she said, "Are you still hungry? I can fix you another sandwich."

"I am hungry, and you can fix it, but I don't need a sandwich, Babe. I just need you." He stood and held his hand out to her.

"I need you too," she told him. As they walked, arms around one another toward the stairs, she said, "I'm going to call your mother tomorrow and tell her I love her."

"That's nice."

"Yes, it is. And then she'll tell me she loves me and then she won't be upset about Connor any longer."

He stopped and looked down at her, puzzled.

"If she'd helped Corrine find you, you'd never have found me," Stephanie explained. "Things always work out the way they are supposed to. That's Karma."

"Babe, my Karma is way broken."

"Maybe just dented," she said, smiling at him. He looked at her earnest expression and he saw the love for him in her eyes. Maybe she was right, dented, not broken. And maybe she was smoothing out the dents.


	24. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER 24**

 **Present Day Miami**

Tank had booked Ranger on a commercial flight, first class. Ranger sometimes preferred to use a charter service, but in this instance, the flight times were perfect. He'd be home by dinnertime, and hopefully with good news. He had a twenty-page prospectus on Martine Commercial and Residential Cooling. He wasn't sure how Tank had gotten his hands on it, but the document had simplified one of Ranger's problems. Ron Martine was shopping for investors, and while it had never been part of the RangeMan business plan to acquire an air-conditioning company, he was going to move on the opportunity.

Ranger didn't know Ron Martine well, but what he knew, he liked. At the same time, he trusted his daughter. She'd said that Ron treated her differently than he treated his biological children. He needed to find out if that was the absolute truth or just Julie's spin on things. The resultant answer wouldn't change things. He was still going to take up Julie's cause and ask for custody.

Ranger loved his daughter, despite the fact they'd spent little time together. He was awed by the potential he saw in her and he wanted to mentor her. He wasn't certain if her current obsession with all things RangeMan would last, or if she would outgrow her fascination for his business. It didn't matter. He would support her, both financially and emotionally, in any direction she chose to go.

For a large part of his adult life he'd been emotionally unavailable to … everyone. Stephanie had changed that. He didn't regret giving up his parental rights where Julie was concerned. It had been the correct decision at the time. There was no way he could have been a proper parent or husband, and both he and Rachel recognized that fact. He'd married Rachel because he'd gotten her pregnant, pure and simple. Soon after they were married, they admitted their union had been a mistake and took steps to resolve it amicably.

Now things were very different in his life. More different than he could have ever imagined. Julie wanted to live with him and he wanted it as well. He was hoping to make this transition without a legal battle. He'd sent money for Julie's support from the beginning and continued, even after he'd been released from the legal obligation to do so. He didn't regret the money it had cost him, even at a time when he'd had to go without to make sure Julie didn't.

He frowned at the realization that she'd been going without recently. From the comments she'd made, Julie had been babysitting to earn spending money. The money he'd been sending had not been going to Julie, but apparently had been siphoned off to help reduce the family debt. Which brought his thoughts back to Martine Commercial and Residential Cooling. He closed the prospectus, deciding not to read any more. He'd be investing, no matter what the outlook for the business was. Rachel and Ron had provided a home for Julie and for her half-siblings, and Ranger would do whatever it took to keep that home from imploding, whether Julie was in residence or not. Julie was very determined to leave her life in Miami behind, but it needed to be there should she decide to return.

Ranger sat in the RangeMan fleet vehicle he'd commandeered upon his arrival in Miami. He'd been in the driver's seat unmoving for nearly a half-hour in what Stephanie would say was his zone. In that time, he'd seen two crews of men come out of the green one-story cinderblock building. They'd gotten into panel vans with the Martine business logo on the side and headed out into traffic. The men had been wearing blue uniforms and had looked well-groomed and professional. The vans had been clean, sparkling like they had recently visited the car wash. The building, while uninspired architecturally, had been well-maintained with a small fringe of manicured lawn across the front. Ranger couldn't fault the business by appearance.

He'd read the Google reviews and Ron had many satisfied customers. It seemed he was good at installation and PR. Management was obviously his downfall. His inventories were too high and his new job orders too low. There was no room in the budget for advertising. RangeMan Miami had a good management team in place. The trick now was to convince his team that they wanted to manage the books for Ron's business, and to convince Ron that it would be a good idea to partner with RangeMan. The RangeMan team would bow to his order. Ron might not be interested in a partnership with him though. A glance at the dash clock told him it was time to act. He was on a tight schedule.

"Thanks for seeing me," he told Ron as they shook hands a few minutes later.

"No problem," Ron responded. He indicated that Ranger should take a chair across from his desk, and Ranger did. Ranger realized with a start that the furniture was the same Naugahyde outdated office furniture Vinnie had had in the bail bonds office before it burned down. The difference was, that although the furniture was old, ancient really, it was in good repair. He thought he could work with Ron. The man seemed to be a hard worker, and Ranger appreciated that.

"What are you here about?" Ron asked. "Has Julie gotten herself in some trouble this summer? We were hoping a change of scenery would do her good, keep her from being a bad influence on her brother and sister."

"Julie's fine," Ranger said tersely. There had been a tinge of disgust in Ron's voice, mostly hidden, but still discernable. It was as if Ron expected the girl to cause trouble, and Ranger thought Julie's claims about unequal treatment were probably true. He quashed his irritation and put on his best business blank face.

"I'm going to be direct with you, Ron, because that's how I'd want someone to be with me. I'm speaking with you first, and then I'm going to talk to Rachel. Julie wants to live with us in Trenton. Stephanie and I would love to have her. I want your permission to have her live with us permanently."

Ron frowned. "You gave up your right to Julie years ago, Mañoso."

"I did," Ranger agreed, "but my circumstances have changed. I can offer Julie a home and a relationship, and she wants it. In fact, this was her idea, although both Stephanie and I are on board. I'd like to do this by mutual agreement, but if it comes to it, I will initiate legal proceedings. That will be expensive and time consuming, and while I have both the time and the money, I'm thinking you may be a little short on one of those commodities."

"You sonofabitch!" Ron exclaimed. "Are you threatening me?"

"Yes," Ranger said. "And it's not an idle threat. Julie wants a relationship with me, and I find I want one with her."

"So, all the years I put in as her father are for nothin'?" Ron snapped.

"Of course not," Ranger said. "I will encourage Julie to visit as often as she wants and both you and Rachel are welcome at my home."

"If this is a 'mutual agreement' as you put it, then what about Julie's child support?" Ron retorted.

Ranger raised an eyebrow a millimeter. That hadn't taken long. Maybe Ron's financial position was worse than he realized. "When I gave up parental rights to Julie, my obligation to provide for her monetarily ended. I've continued to send money for her support, with the understanding it would _actually_ be spent for Julie's needs. Recently it has come to my attention, the money hasn't been going to her."

"That's not true," Ron said, defensively. The flush that turned his cheeks ruddy wasn't all irritation.

"I'll answer your question," Ranger said. "The money I give Julie won't stop. But it will now be going to Julie straight from me. If you're worried that you won't be able to shore up your failing business with her money, I have a solution for that as well. I'd like to invest in the business."

Ranger was almost amused by the incredulity he saw on Ron's face. He didn't give the other man time to speak but went on with his proposal. "RangeMan Miami has an excellent team available to manage your business. I'll have one of my accountants meet with you, and report to me on the amount of capital I'll need to invest and then the entire process can take place without my presence. My attorneys will meet with yours and draw up a partnership. You'll continue to run the business as you have. You are the cooling expert and we won't touch that side of your business. RangeMan will manage the budget and payroll. When the business turns around, RangeMan will take its share of the profits. You can choose to take a percentage or draw a salary. I'm flexible. I will do whatever causes the least inconvenience for you."

Ron got up from his desk and walked to the corner of the room, where a black punching bag hung from the ceiling. His fists exploded into rapid-fire punches and had the bag rocking with intensity and speed. When his burst of energy was expended he paced back and forth behind his desk. He was obviously considering Ranger's proposition. Finally, he returned to his desk to face Ranger who had sat unmoving during the episode.

"This day sucks," Ron said softly. "I found out this morning I lost a bid for a big job I had been counting on, and then you make your way in here and tell me that you're stealing my daughter and my business."

"I'm not stealing your daughter," Ranger said. "I'm telling you that I'd like custody of her. After I leave here I'm going to visit Rachel and tell her the same thing. The final decision will rest with you and Rachel."

"Some decision," Ron said. "You seem to know that I'm in deep. I need an investor to help me out and you just casually tell me that you are that guy. You'll call all the shots. Well, it sucks for me that I need that. I'd like to jump at the offer, but it comes with conditions. I've got to give up my daughter to save my business."

"I see I didn't make myself clear. I'm investing in your business. I will help you out of the financial quagmire you're in. It will benefit me down the road as well as you. If you and Rachel say no to my request for custody, I'm still investing in your business. The issues are separate."

"Why would you do that?" Ron asked, puzzled. "Why would you help me if we refuse to let you have Julie?"

"If you refuse to let me have Julie it becomes more urgent that you not lose your business. I don't want Julie's lifestyle interrupted any more than it has been. She says you play favorites and she's not your favorite."

"The hell I do!"

"Whether you do or don't, her perception is that you do. That must change. As I said earlier, you and Rachel can be as involved in her life as you like. You will be welcome in my home any time you want to visit her."

Ron ran his hand through his hair and looked at his desktop for a moment and then he made eye contact with Ranger. "I need the help. If you're offering, then I'm taking. The decision regarding Julie will be made by Rachel. I won't sway her. It will be up to you to convince her." He looked at Ranger and then shook his head. "You're serious? The offer to help me is really independent of the decision regarding Julie?"

"It is independent of Julie's custody," Ranger reaffirmed. "I'm doing this for Julie, so that her family will stay intact. So that no matter if she stays here or leaves now but comes back later to live here, she will have the security of the home she's always known. But I plan to make a profit on this investment."

"I hope you do," Ron said. "I accept your offer. I guess you're not such a ruthless bastard after all." He held out a hand to Ranger.

Ranger took the extended hand and they shook to seal the deal. "It wasn't my intent to be a ruthless bastard today," he said, "but that can change if the need arises."

Ron gave a snort of laughter. "I don't know why I laughed," he said. "It's not funny. Good luck with Rachel. You'll need it if you plan to get her permission to keep Julie in Trenton."

With half of his mission completed Ranger made his way to the Martine home. He wondered if Ron would call to alert Rachel, but the look on her face when she opened the door told him Ron hadn't called.

"Carlos!" The surprise on her face suddenly changed to fear. "Oh no! Julie! What's wrong with Julie?"

He reached out and took hold of her arms. "Nothing is wrong," he told her hurriedly. He felt bad for causing her to worry. "I'm here to talk to you about Julie, but she's perfectly fine. May I come in?"

"Oh, yes. I…Yes, come in." He released her arms and she stepped back to allow him to enter. "I'm sorry," she said. "When I saw you, I thought the worst."

"She's fine," Ranger said. "She seems to be enjoying her summer. Stephanie's even got her wearing clothes with color instead of all black."

Rachel looked Ranger up and down with a sardonic look and he smiled. "I guess she comes by her love of the color black naturally," he said. His loose-fitting linen shirt and pants were made for a hot climate, but they were RangeMan black.

They walked into the formal living room and Rachel indicated he should have a seat. "Can I get you something to drink? Lemonade or tea?"

"No, thank you." Ranger remained standing. "Where are your other children?"

"They're at the library for the summer reading program. I carpool with the neighbor so she'll bring them home in about an hour."

"Sit down, Rachel," he said. "I have something to discuss with you." When she sat, he took the chair across from her and took a moment to consider how he was going to tell her why he was here.

"So, this is about Julie?" she asked. "About her wanting to stay in Trenton with you and Stephanie."

"Yes," Ranger responded. "Ron called you then?"

She looked puzzled. "Ron? You talked to Ron about this?"

"I did," he said. "I came to town for the day and stopped in to see him on my way here. If you didn't talk to Ron, how did you know?"

"From Julie. Don't look so surprised," she said. "I talk to Julie every other day. She's having a good summer and she's really enjoying working at RangeMan. I was a little concerned when I heard she was working there, but she says it's mostly clerical work."

"It is," Ranger agreed. "I've had some business that's kept me out of the office, so Stephanie has been overseeing Julie's work. She won't let Julie do anything remotely dangerous."

"That's what Julie has been complaining to me about," Rachel said with a smile. "And then she tells me she loves me but she wants to live with her real dad."

"She's told you that?"

"Every time we talk."

"I'm surprised," Ranger admitted. "I didn't know she was doing that."

"I've known of her desire to stay there since the first week she was there. What I don't know is how you and Stephanie feel about it."

"We've discussed it, and we would like to have her," he said. "We will abide by your decision though."

"I'm not sure what's she's told you," Rachel hesitated. "Things have been kind of rough around here. Ron has been under some stress at work and he's not always the easiest guy to be around. Julie, being the oldest child, seems to catch the short end of his temper."

Ranger looked long and hard at the woman who had once been his wife. She'd aged. There were lines of stress on her face, and he remembered Julie saying her mom and dad fought all the time. He hoped his offer to help with the business eased the stress. He had a question he had to ask.

"What exactly does the short end of his temper mean? Has he ever been physical with her?"

"No! Never! He is sometimes a little more critical of her than of the other two. She's older and he, we, expect more out of her. It's probably a little unfair to Julie, which is why I've been giving serious consideration to asking you to let her stay with you."

"Are you sure?" Ranger asked.

"No. I can't imagine not having her here, but I know she wants to be in Trenton."

"Stephanie and I have plenty of room. You could come and stay whenever you felt the need to see her."

"Really?"

"Really."

The plane home was on time. He called Stephanie from the airport and told her to plan on a nice dinner for the three of them. There was going to be a celebration.

 _AN: A special thanks to Bonnie (bgrgrmpy) for proofreading this chapter and, hopefully, future chapters. Bonnie has an eagle eye for typos and those small missing words in sentences._


	25. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER 25**

 **Present Day Trenton**

Stephanie spent the morning running up and down the stairs, carrying small tables, lamps, wastebaskets and other decorative furnishings in and out of the guest room that would become Connor's room. He was arriving this afternoon, after deciding to live in Trenton with his father during his last year in high school.

Steph wasn't sure how she felt about Connor living with them for the next year. She'd been excited about Julie coming to live with them permanently, but Connor was an unknown entity. And from what little Ranger had said, Connor was not happy about having to move to New Jersey, and especially not happy with Ranger. Add to that the anticipated tension between Julie and Connor, and this next year promised to be a stress-filled one.

Regardless of that, though, Stephanie was determined to make Connor feel welcome. She was a flurry of activity trying to change the bland guest room to one a teenaged boy would enjoy living in. The problem was she had no idea what Connor might like. She'd only met him that one hectic time in Corrine's hospital room. He was too old for a theme-based room, but she worried that a simple masculine room would be too boring for him. Ranger was absolutely no help at all, and even Julie had no ideas for her. In desperation, she'd called Chase and learned that Connor had become fascinated with Chase's motorcycles. She'd finally settled for an industrial-inspired contemporary look for the bedroom, with chrome, glass and black leather accents. To that she added a couple of large prints featuring decked out choppers and sport bikes.

She stood back and looked at the final result. She thought it looked great, but she had no idea how Connor would feel about it. Shrugging, she turned and walked down the hall to the master bedroom. It was a muggy hot summer day and she was going to spend a few hours with Julie swimming in the beautiful pool out back. It wasn't the beach, but sand was overrated, she mused, especially when it worked its way into delicate places. A few hours cooling off in the pool and catching some rays on the lounger was just what she needed to de-stress.

An hour later, Ranger answered the security buzz that sounded from the front gates. He glanced at the tablet-sized monitor set above the alarm panel and saw a helmeted rider on a motorcycle outside the gate. He held the communication button and asked, "May I help you?"

A male voice sounded over the speaker. "It's Connor."

 _Great,_ Ranger mused, _Chase is letting him ride a motorcycle_. Ranger was not happy about that. His assessment of Connor was that he was too immature to handle the responsibility of riding a motorcycle. "You're early," Ranger replied over the intercom. "We weren't expecting you until this afternoon."

"I didn't have much to pack. Are you going to let me in?" Ranger hit the open key, while the intercom squawked once more. "Hold the gate open," Connor said. "Chase isn't far behind me with my truck."

Ranger watched the monitor as Connor roared up the driveway. Chase pulled onto the property soon thereafter. Ranger closed the gate and strode out the front door to meet them. Connor had taken off his helmet and was looking around at the house and grounds, his mouth open and a look of wonder on his face.

"You own all of this?" Connor asked, a touch of awe in his voice.

Chase stepped out of the truck and met Ranger halfway. After shaking hands, Ranger tilted his chin toward Connor, who was still looking at the impressive façade and grounds.

"What's with the motorcycle?" Ranger asked.

"It's my gift to him. He's had a rough couple of weeks and I thought he deserved something special," Chase told him. "Don't worry, he took an intensive riding class from one of my instructors."

"You _gave_ him the bike?"

"He can handle it," Chase said. "I've been riding with him the past few days and he's been very responsible."

Ranger shook his head. "We'll see," was his last comment on the subject. "Let's get the truck unloaded and Connor settled. We'll have lunch before you head back to Newark. I see you brought your own bike for the ride back." The back of the pickup truck was filled with Connor's meager belongings and a second motorcycle.

"Yeah, it seemed the easiest way to get everything here, including the truck. Though the truck isn't going to last much longer without a major overhaul." Chase shrugged. "It was John Madrid's truck. Connor is very attached to it. Do you have room in your garage for this clunker?"

Ranger took in the dilapidated condition of the ancient truck. It had only been parked in the driveway for a few minutes and there was already a puddle of oil forming underneath it. Louis was going to be kept busy cleaning up oil drops until the truck could be fixed.

Ranger carried the last of Connor's boxes up to his bedroom where he found Connor glued to the window that overlooked the backyard ... and the pool. Connor whirled around, twin red spots high on his cheeks. He rushed to take the box from Ranger.

"Is this room going to suit you for the next year?" Ranger asked.

Connor looked around and replied, "Yeah. It's fine. It's got a bed and a TV. As long as I can set up my PlayStation..."

Ranger inclined his head, and started back out the door. "I'll give you a tour of the house and then we'll have lunch with Chase. You can unpack this afternoon."

Ranger led Connor through the upper and ground floor rooms, and then introduced him to Ella when they got to the kitchen. She was busy preparing lunch but stopped to greet the newest member of the Mañoso household.

"Mrs. Guzman and her husband Louis keep the house and grounds running smoothly," Ranger told him. "They live in the cottage out back. Mrs. Guzman manages the house and Mr. Guzman manages the rest of the estate. Ella, is there anything you want to clarify for Connor?"

"First, please call me Ella," she said, smiling at the teenager. "If you are like all the other teenaged boys I've ever met, you are always hungry. I'll keep snacks and your favorite foods stocked, if you'll let me know what you like. I keep a shopping list on the refrigerator. Feel free to add to it. If you like, I'll do your laundry once a week. Just bring your dirty clothes down to the laundry room. Sheets and towels are changed every Monday. Also, a housecleaning crew comes in once a week, usually on Thursdays. It would be helpful if you could keep your bedroom floor clear on that day so they can vacuum the rugs. And Connor, welcome." She passed a plate of apple and orange slices toward him, which he gratefully scooped up. "If you need anything during the week, just ask."

"Wow, I've never had such service before. I'm not sure I can get used to it, but I'll happily try," Connor told her, grinning. "Thanks, Ella. I think I'm going to like living here." He smiled at her as he popped a piece of fruit into his mouth. The smile faded as Ranger beckoned to him to follow him out into the garage.

"You can park your truck in the far bay," Ranger pointed past the Cayenne and the Macan, where Louis was laying down a large piece of cardboard on the cement. "Your truck is leaking oil. We're going to have get that fixed, soon," he explained, as Louis joined them. The men shook hands as Ranger introduced them. "Connor, this is Louis Guzman. He is the property manager for the estate. Louis, this is Connor Madrid. He'll be staying with us for at least the next year. Thanks for the cardboard. The truck's oil leak will be fixed ASAP." Ranger glanced at Connor, who frowned.

"What about my bike? Do I park that outside or can I park it next to my truck?" asked Connor.

"Next to your truck, for now," was Ranger's terse response.

They exited through a side door into the backyard, joining Chase on the path to the pool. As they drew nearer, they saw Stephanie sunning herself on one of the pool loungers and Julie pulling herself up the pool steps from the deep end. Her bright yellow bikini was practically glowing against her darker skin as rivulets of water poured off her curvy frame.

Connor halted in his tracks as he stared at Julie, whispering, "Sweet Jesus."

Ranger halted too, and he gripped Connor's arm. "That's my _daughter_ , Julie," he said, his grip tightening. "Like you, she's just recently come to live with Stephanie and me."

Connor's mouth dropped open. "Your daughter? So, that makes her my ... _sister_?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Excuse me?" Ranger said, looking hard at Connor.

Connor forced himself to drag his eyes from Julie to Ranger. What he saw in Ranger's eyes made him change his next words. "She's ...um... very pretty. Though isn't she a little old to be your daughter?"

"She's thirteen," Ranger retorted.

"Double damn."

Stephanie heard the guys talking and stood, slipping on a swimsuit cover. Julie moved over to stand next to Stephanie, her eyes darting between Chase and Connor as they came toward them. Stepping forward, Steph greeted Chase with a hug. When she embraced Connor, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, his arms at his side.

"Connor, welcome to our home," Steph said. "Actually, welcome to _your_ home. It's your home now, too."

"Uh, thanks," Connor stammered, trying to keep his eyes focused on Stephanie instead of staring at Julie and her skimpy bikini.

Ranger put his hand on Julie's shoulder, but he was looking at Connor. "Connor and Chase, this is my daughter, Julie. Julie, this is Connor Madrid and his uncle, Chase Fields."

"It's nice to meet you." Julie shook both men's hands and, with a mischievous grin, asked, "I'm sorry, but this is all so new to me. If Connor is my half-brother, does that make Chase my half-uncle?"

Chase laughed while Ranger frowned. "Chase isn't related to you, Julie. Anymore than I am related to your half-brother and sister." Ranger turned to Connor and explained, "Julie's mother, my first wife, remarried and has two children. They live in Miami, Florida."

"Hey, no sweat," Connor tossed out. "Most of my friends are part of a blended family. It's commonplace these days. Nice to meet you, _sis_." He grinned at Julie, and got a giggle from her in return.

Stephanie put her arms around Julie's and Connor's shoulders and said, "Well, now that everyone knows each other, why don't we have lunch. Connor, if you haven't met Ella yet, you are in for a treat. She is a fabulous cook. Chase, please join us." Stephanie led everyone up the path to the back patio, where Ella had laid out enough food to feed an army.

There were the usual comments about the wonderful looking food while everyone served themselves, but silence reigned as they tucked in to their lunch. After a few minutes, Stephanie spoke up. "I know you're on your summer break and probably don't want to think about school, but I checked out the local high school and it's pretty nice. It's much better than the one I went to in the Burg. That's Chambersburg, in downtown Trenton. It makes it easier that you'll both be at the same school, Julie as a freshman and you as a senior. I hear they have a great music and art program, and Julie, they even have a martial arts club."

Ranger looked over at his daughter. "You're interested in martial arts?"

Julie's cheeks turned a light pink, but her mouth twitched a little. "Yeah. I took some classes in Miami, but they were so expensive, I had to stop. I was hoping I could get back into it here."

Inwardly, Ranger frowned at his daughter's comments about the classes' costs, but kept his thoughts to himself. "What did you study?" Ranger probed.

"I started with judo, but my teacher also taught aikido. I like both forms."

"Judo?" Connor chimed in. "I took judo lessons for a few years, too. I had to stop after my dad died." Connor shot a glance at Ranger, and then turned back to Julie. "Like you, we didn't have the money for extra stuff. What's aikido? I've never heard of it."

Julie was warming up to the topic, as Ranger sat back and watched his two children interact. "It's similar to judo, but it has a different philosophy," Julie explained. "It's mainly used as a defense, rather than as an attack, and you always have to keep the safety of your attacker in mind."

Connor snorted. "Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose? Isn't the idea of combat to take down your attacker?"

"Yes, but how you take them down makes all the difference. Aikido is just as effective as judo in incapacitating your attacker, but it is gentler in its takedowns. There's an entire mental and spiritual aspect to aikido that separates it from most martial arts."

"Interesting. I'd like to learn more about it," Connor said. "Maybe we could both take some classes?"

"That would be fun," Julie replied. "There are so many types of martial arts, it's hard to decide what to focus on." She glanced over at Ranger. "One of the other instructors specialized in juego de maní. I tried it a couple of times and liked its fluidity."

Ranger smiled. "Maní? You know that's Cuban?"

Julie nodded. "That's why I tried it, to touch base with my roots. It's pretty popular in Miami, with all the Cubans who live there. And I like the music element, too."

"It has the typical Cuban grace and style combined with its rhythmic movements. Did you try using weapons or just do the movements?" Ranger asked.

"Just the movements," Julie answered. "I wasn't able to stay in the class long enough to learn how to use the sticks or knives. I'd like to learn, though."

Smiling to herself, Stephanie was enjoying the back and forth conversation between brother and sister, and father and daughter, but when the subject of Cuba was mentioned, she noticed Connor frown. Was he just realizing that he too, was half Cuban? Stephanie sighed. Another new thing for Connor to adjust to, as if his plate wasn't already full enough.

Ranger nodded to his daughter. "I think we can arrange for you to start up classes again. In fact, a couple of my employees teach various forms of martial arts in their spare time. Lester is an expert at judo and Tank is a master at krav maga. If it interests you, I think they would enjoy showing you their specialties. And if you don't mind learning from your old dad, I could show you some basic hand-to-hand combat techniques. We could practice using the gym at RangeMan."

"I'd like that, Dad."

"What about you, Connor?" Ranger asked. "Would you be up for some one-on-one time with me? We have a well-equipped gym at RangeMan."

Connor held Ranger's gaze for a while before he answered. "Yeah, I'd like some mat time with you."


	26. Chapter 26

**CHAPTER 26**

 **Two weeks after Connor moved in**

Ranger stepped into the garage and could smell it immediately. Cigarette smoke. There was a slight haze at the far end of the garage, on the other side of Connor's dilapidated truck. When Ranger got to the other side, he could see Connor's runners stretched out to the wall. He was sitting on the floor up against the rear tire. And yes, he was smoking. Ranger didn't know if it was better that it was only a regular cigarette or if he would have preferred Connor to be smoking weed.

He was standing over Connor before his son looked up. "This is my fault," Ranger began. And then he did something that surprised both of them. He let his body slide down the garage wall until he was sitting on the concrete floor across from Connor. "I wasn't clear on the ground rules for living here," he clarified. He gestured to the ash-topped cigarette Connor was holding. "Smoking is not allowed here. Not weed, not cigarettes. I don't even allow service people to smoke on the property."

Connor looked at his father and then back to the cigarette he was holding. Without saying a word, he tapped off the ash, brought the cigarette to his lips and took a long drag on it, slowly blowing out the smoke directly toward Ranger. Before he knew what had happened, Ranger had grabbed the cigarette out of his hand. He didn't even see what his father had done with it, because it was gone, in a puff of smoke. It wasn't in Ranger's hand or on the floor, it was simply gone.

"What the fuck?" Connor yelled, jumping to his feet.

Ranger rose up, standing a little too close to Connor. "As I said, no smoking allowed. And while we're at it, there are a few other things that need to be said. You've been showing up late to dinner. If you choose not to eat with the family, that's your decision, but it's rude not to call and inform us that you won't be joining us. Ella spends a lot of time preparing meals for us and I will not allow anyone to be discourteous to her. If you aren't going to be home in time for dinner, call. Yes, that's another rule."

He paused to let his words sink in. Connor was staring at Ranger, his mouth slightly open. Ranger continued. "Since you have ignored Ella's request to pick up your things from your bedroom floor on Thursdays so that the housecleaning crew can vacuum your room, I have instructed them to leave your room alone and not clean it. If you want it cleaned, keep your clothes off the floor."

Ranger continued. "I don't have a lot of rules, Connor, but the ones I do have I expect to be followed. Common courtesy and respect for one another goes a long way. You're old enough to understand those concepts. You've been disrespectful to all of us and I expect that to change."

They stared at one another, but Connor didn't flinch. Ranger waited him out. It took a while.

Finally, Connor looked away. After another long pause, he said, "I could have called yesterday and let Ella know I wouldn't be home for dinner. I'll apologize to her." After a moment, he added, "For not calling and for not keeping my room picked up." He took a deep breath and said, "And I'll apologize to Stephanie. For..." Connor cut his eyes to Ranger's and then quickly looked away, "...you know."

Ranger frowned, but he nodded. "I don't want to control you, but I do expect you to follow the house rules. I expect a peaceful and considerate household. Have I made myself clear?"

His question was met with silence. Ranger turned to fully face the sullen teenager. After a long moment of mutual staring, Connor finally dipped his head in acknowledgement. As Ranger walked away, he said, "Dinner will be served in an hour. I expect you to join us."

...

Ranger frowned as he sat back in his chair, his laptop open on the desk, its screen shining its light up into his face. What he'd just discovered had him both irritated and concerned. It didn't take him long to make a decision on how to proceed with the unsettling information he'd just uncovered. Rising, he strode to the door, laptop in hand. He made his way down the hall from his home office to Julie's bedroom. He rapped his knuckles on the closed door.

"Yes," came the response.

"Julie, may I come in?" Ranger asked.

The door opened and Julie's fresh-scrubbed face appeared. "What is it, Dad? It's kind of late. I was already in bed."

"This will just take a moment." Ranger entered her room and walked over to her desk. He set his laptop down and opened it, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. He straightened and gestured to the glowing screen. "What's the meaning of this?"

Julie looked confused, but bent over and studied the screen. When she stood up, her cheeks were red and her mouth was set in a thin line. "You're spying on me?" she cried. "How dare you!"

"I didn't think I'd have to, but obviously I was wrong. Julie, you're carrying on an online conversation with a stranger, an adult. A man you don't know. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Do you know what men like this are after?"

"We were just talking. It's harmless," she retorted.

"It isn't harmless. This is how it starts, casual bantering, and then they ask you to meet them someplace..."

Julie interrupted, "I would never meet him, or anyone I talk to online. I'm not stupid."

"Then why are you even talking to him?"

Julie shrugged. "It's fun. It fills up time. I get bored."

"If you're that bored, I can find things to keep you busy. You can help Ella around the house. You can spend more time in Newark getting to know your cousins. Don't you have a hobby? What about reading? Your mom said you were really into this one author..."

"Dad, it's not that simple..."

"It is that simple. It's a good thing that school begins soon. Homework should keep you too busy to dabble in sketchy chat rooms. In the meantime, I'm taking away your internet privileges, and that includes your phone. I'm swapping out your smart phone for one that only allows phone calls. No internet access."

"Da-aaaad! You can't do that! That's barbaric! That's half my world. I ... I ..." She stomped her foot and glared at her father.

"It's already done. Until you can demonstrate you're responsible enough to handle internet access, you'll remain cut off. I'm disappointed, Julie." Ranger closed his laptop and then unplugged Julie's laptop and took both of them with him when he left her room.

...

As Ranger entered the master bedroom that night, he truly felt his age. It had been one thing after another with his children, and he was exhausted. Stephanie walked out of the bathroom and stopped, seeing the tired expression on her husband's face.

"Hard day at the office?" she asked. "You look tired."

"The office was a piece of cake," Ranger said. "It's home that's got me down."

"Oh. I thought I detected a little tension between you and Connor at dinner. Did you two argue?"

"We didn't really argue, but I did have words with him. He barely said a word. I feel like my only interaction with him is to lay down the law or reprimand him. Even Julie and I are at odds most of the time. Is this what parenting is supposed to be like?" He sat on the edge of the bed and bent over, his arms resting on his knees. A loud sigh was his final 'word.'

Steph joined him on the bed and bumped her shoulder against his. "Parenting teenagers is hard. You missed out on their sweet moments when they were babies and toddlers, and the worst was a loud but usually short-lived shouted "No!" during their terrible twos. By the time they're in their teens, they turn into sullen, moody strangers who want nothing to do with their parents. Don't you remember what you were like at that age?"

"I couldn't possibly have been this bad," Ranger protested.

Steph smirked. "I've talked with your mother about your teen years. You were so bad that your parents sent you to live with your grandmother in Miami. Dig deep, Ranger, and try to remember how you felt at their age. Things will get better."

He let out another sigh. "It can't come too quickly for me."

Stephanie chuckled. "I don't want to depress you any further, but I have a feeling things are going to get worse before they get better. It's just the nature of the teen years. They are trying to feel their way out of being children into being adults, but they aren't quite there yet. It's our job to give them just enough rope to hang themselves with." She chuckled again. "Not really, but we do have to let them stretch their wings and try to fly. However, they're going to crash and burn several times before they learn to fly successfully. And we have to let them. When they were younger, we could have picked them up and hugged them and let them cry in the safety of our arms. Now, we still have to be there for them when they really need us, but then back off when they don't."

"How do you know the difference?" Ranger asked.

"I don't know. This is all new to me, too," Steph told him. "But we'll get through this, together." She leaned into him and he put his arm around her.

"Thanks for the pep talk. I don't know what I'd do without you, Babe." He kissed her forehead. "Being a parent to two teenagers is worse than anything I had to go through in combat. I don't know that I'm cut out for this."

Steph smiled. "You can do it. Like I said, things will get better."

He gave her another kiss on her forehead and then stood up and moved toward the bathroom, but turned back. "Connor said something this afternoon, something I didn't question at the time, but it made me curious."

"What's that?" she asked.

"He said he would apologize to you."

"For what?"

"I don't know. I was admonishing him to be more respectful, and he said he would apologize to you for ... _you know_."

Stephanie looked puzzled and she started, "No, I don't know ... _ohhhh_." She rose from the bed and turned away from Ranger.

"What is it, Babe?"

She didn't look at him; she just shook her head.

"Babe?"

"It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"It was nothing. I handled it."

"What did you handle?"

It was Stephanie's turn to sigh. "There was an ... incident, a few days ago. I came down hard on Connor and he apologized. That's all."

"What did he do?" Ranger asked.

"We don't need to rehash it," she said. "It's over and done with, and it won't happen again."

"What won't happen again?"

Stephanie slowly turned to face Ranger. She looked miserable. "You aren't going to let this go, are you?"

"Babe."

She sighed. "Like I said, it was a few days ago. I'd spent an hour at the pool, swimming and working on my tan, and was hurrying up to the house." She looked embarrassed. "I had to pee. I wasn't looking where I was going and I ran into Connor, literally. He caught me so I wouldn't fall, and then ... he ... he sort of, um, felt me up."

"HE WHAT?" Ranger yelled.

Stephanie stepped closer and put her hand on his arm. "It wasn't a big deal. It only lasted a moment, and I pushed him away immediately. It started out sort of accidental and then got … not accidental. I read him the riot act, and he swore it would never happen again. I won't let it happen again."

"Of course it won't happen again. He'll be dead," Ranger vowed between tightly clenched teeth.

"Ranger, it's handled. It's over. Connor regrets it ever happened. Please, let it go," Steph pleaded.

"Felt you up how?" His voice was steely. "And why didn't I hear about this when it happened?"

Stephanie hesitated and then drew in a deep breath. Ranger tensed, knowing he was getting ready to hear something he wouldn't like. "He reached out to steady me and his hand brushed against my breast. It was accidental. And then he brushed his hand back the other way for another feel. There was some ... groping. That was on purpose, and he realized he made a serious mistake as soon as he did it. It won't happen again."

"And you're sure of this because...?"

Stephanie's voice rose and he knew she was agitated with his questioning. But he had to have the complete picture. "Because I reached out and grabbed him by the balls," she said, almost shouting, but not quite. "And I squeezed, hard. Hard enough that his knees buckled. I told him I'd stapled a guy's nuts to his thighs before and I wouldn't hesitate to take him down if he even thought about touching me inappropriately again. He was embarrassed, Ranger. He's just a kid, and while I'm not excusing what he did, I am forgiving him for it."

Ranger cringed at the thought of balls stapled to thighs and he forgot for just a moment how upset he was with Connor. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked her.

"I didn't tell you because I handled it," she said. "And I knew you'd be upset. And now that you _are_ upset, I'm upset too! You can't fight all my battles for me. I was capable of dealing with the situation and I did. I didn't ask for this strange blended family we have, and I'm doing my best, Ranger. I'm not Carol Brady. I don't wait for Daddy Mike to come home and discipline the kids. I act!"

"Fuck the Brady Bunch!" Ranger said. He ran a hand through his hair and headed for the shower, which was where he was going when the conversation about Connor had started. He turned back to her as he stood in the doorway to the bathroom. "You really threatened to staple his nuts?"

"I did, and I also borrowed Louis' staple gun and left it laying on the seat of Connor's truck."

Ranger's mouth dropped open as he took in her words and then the unexpected happened. He felt himself smile. A full-on smile. He felt the tension in his shoulders relax and he took in a deep breath. "You never disappoint. You handled it, but next time, will you tell me? I don't like to hear about these things backhandedly."

"If you promise not to lose your temper over these little things, then I promise I will tell you everything."

"It's a deal," he said softly. "It's been a long day. I'm going to take a shower."

She crossed the room and took his hand in hers. "What a coincidence. I was just getting ready to do the same thing."

"Babe."


	27. Chapter 27

**CHAPTER 27**

 **Four Weeks Later**

Julie let out a whooping yell and pumped her fist up and down, hissing loudly, "YES!" Grinning, she leaned over and held her hand out to Lester who was groaning while lying on his back. With reluctance, he forced his body up from the mat and took Julie's hand, allowing her to help him up.

"Nice move," Lester told her, grudgingly as he rubbed the small of his back. "You've come a long way in the last few weeks. I guess I can't let myself be distracted when I'm working with you."

"WHAT?" Julie exclaimed, narrowing her brows at the man slouched before her. "You're telling me the only reason I got the better of you is because you were distracted? No way, José! I took you down fair and square." With her hands firmly on her hips, she looked as if she were ready to toss him a second time.

Grimacing, Lester straightened his back and drawled, "I said you were getting better, but there's no way you could take me down if I was on my guard."

Jimmy, who'd been nearby working out with weights, sidled over to them and, with a wink, told Julie, "I'd take a fall for you anytime, Julie."

She turned to Jimmy and said, "Oh, you'd fall, alright, Jimmy, but it'd be an honest to god fall." She feigned a combative stance. "I'm ready for a match, if you think you can handle it."

"I can handle it. I'd love to _handle_ it," Jimmy grinned.

"Down, boy," Lester warned the younger man.

"Promises, promises. You're all talk and no action," Julie snorted, tilting her head down while looking at Jimmy through her lashes.

"All right, both of you shut it down. You," Lester pointed at Jimmy, "get back to your own workout. And you, young lady," he said, glaring at Julie, "need to practice control. After you make a successful strike, you need to be ready for your opponent's countermove. No gloating, no dancing around. This is serious business."

Julie grinned, "It was a successful strike, wasn't it?"

"You're missing the point," Lester admonished. "What we're doing here is child's play compared to the real thing. In here there's no danger, no fear. If you were really being attacked, you'd have to contend with your body's adrenaline rush, which can make you freeze up. Maybe we need to take this out of the gym to the streets. Simulate some real attacks on you when you least expect it."

"Oooh, I like that idea," she said. "Sort of Pink Panther-like, with Inspector Clouseau and Cato."

"You're too young to know about old movies like that," Lester told her.

"My parents like to watch old movies. Some are pretty funny. Even Stephanie watches them. Her favorite is Ghostbusters. It's hilarious."

"You think Ghostbusters is an old movie?" Lester asked, shaking his head.

Julie let out a _phffft_. "It's like _thirty_ years old. That's ancient!"

"I'm more than thirty years old," Lester countered. Julie just grinned.

"Are you two done mucking about?" Tank asked as he approached the mats, Connor in tow. "Some of us have serious training to do."

"What do you think we've been doing?" Lester exclaimed. "It doesn't get any more serious than my girl here. She's on fire."

"I saw her drop you, but just because she can take you down doesn't mean she's on fire. Stephanie's grandmother can take you down," Tank goaded.

Lester puffed up and challenged, "Let's you and me have a go, Grandpa!" He punched Tank in the arm. "C'mon, old man."

Tank snorted. "I may be a few years older than you, but I could beat you with both hands tied behind my back."

"Talk, talk, talk. Put your hands where your flapping lips are," Lester taunted, striking a boxing pose while he danced around the much larger man.

Tank ignored him and started walking off the mat, but Lester kept provoking him. As Tank walked by Lester he kicked his leg out, tripping the dancing man. "Easiest take down ever." He turned to Connor. "Lesson number one: Never underestimate your opponent."

...

Ranger walked out from his office into the control room and immediately felt his blood begin to boil. There was a cluster of men around the monitors, and they were grinning and elbowing each other in the ribs. With two quick strides, he was standing immediately behind them. What he saw on the screen confirmed his suspicions. His fists clenched at his sides in an unconscious effort to control his urge to bash heads. His voice was pitched low and deadly as he uttered, "I hope you're enjoying yourselves, because it will be the last thing you do here at RangeMan. I'm not paying you to indulge your voyeuristic perversions."

The men scattered, mumbling excuses and apologies as they fled. In seconds, Ranger was alone with Hal, who was on monitor duty. Glancing at the screen that showed the in-house gym, Ranger took in the scene happening on the mats. Lester was working with Julie on her self-defense moves, and Tank was putting Connor through his paces on the treadmill. His friends had readily taken to his children and that oddly pleased him. Ranger took another look at his young daughter. He was glad to see she was wearing an oversized t-shirt and bulky sweatpants, but her curvy figure was still evident every time she twisted or turned her body.

"Take the gym camera offline," Ranger growled. He could feel the big man sitting in front of him trying to shrink into his chair. Without looking up or acknowledging Ranger, Hal immediately changed the screen from the gym to the street in front of RangeMan. Ranger turned and strode out of the control room. When he reached the gym, he stopped in the doorway and watched the scene playing out on the mats.

He saw Lester and Tank verbally sparring while Julie and Connor stood off to the side. Ranger knew what was going to happen a split second beforehand. And when it did, he couldn't help but smile to himself. As Lester lay sprawled out on the mat, Ranger took that moment to enter the gym. All eyes turned toward him.

His eyes met Tank's and with a practically indiscernible head movement, he communicated his intent. Tank immediately turned to Connor and began the day's session.

"The primary philosophy of Krav Maga is to neutralize any threat as quickly as possible by whatever means available. You can wait for the attack or you can act preemptively," Tank told Connor. "I prefer the latter."

Connor frowned. "You mean, hit 'em first?"

"Hit them first, second and last," Tank clarified. "And hit them where they are most vulnerable. We're talking about life threatening situations, not fair fights. We're talking about survival."

As Tank and Connor debated the merits of Krav Maga, Ranger turned to Lester and Julie. "Julie, your lesson is over for the day. I need you to make a dozen copies of the McKenna bid for Thursday's meeting. And then Stephanie needs your help for a couple of hours. You can use the apartment on seven to get cleaned up."

Julie started to refuse her father's orders, but thought better of it after seeing the choleric look on his face. After she'd trudged out of the gym, Ranger questioned Lester about Julie's progress.

"She's come a long way in a short time," Lester said. "I've only been working with her for six weeks, and I'd say she has excelled at everything I've thrown at her. She pays attention and is readily able to translate verbal commands to physical action. She's not afraid of getting dirty or sweaty, and each time she falls, she gets right back up. No complaining. She's her father's daughter."

"Stop brown-nosing, Santos," Ranger snapped. "She can't be excelling at everything. What are her weak points?"

"Well, she can get a little distracted when there's lots going on around her. The gym can get crazy when a bunch of the guys are working out."

Ranger glared at Lester. "How are the other men handling having her here?"

Lester shrugged. "In the beginning, they found excuses to stop by the gym when she first started working out, but that's tapered off. Most of the men pretty much ignore her now. I've warned off those who still ... um... look too long."

A low growl sounded from Ranger. "Who? Who's been paying her attention?"

Lester dropped his eyes before looking back up. "No one's stepped over the line. I keep a close eye on her. Julie and I have become good friends. She listens to me and I've told her in no uncertain terms that the guys here are totally off limits."

"All guys are off limits when it comes to my daughter. She's only thirteen. As for the men here, you haven't done a good enough job keeping them away from her. I just ran off a bunch of them who were watching her on the monitors." Ranger ran his hand through his hair. "It's one of the reasons I've never hired women to work here. Too many distractions."

"That might be the wrong approach, boss," Lester said, broaching a touchy subject. "The more often we have to work around women, the more we get used to them."

"I think you may have ulterior motives for that viewpoint. You're just looking for an easy dating pool."

"I admit, I wouldn't mind it a bit if there were women working here. Women other than family members, I mean. Times are changing and RangeMan needs to keep up."

"RangeMan doesn't need a harassment suit," Ranger said, giving Lester a meaningful look.

"Hey, I never harass women. Women like my attention," Lester protested.

"Right," Ranger said, shaking his head. "Like the attention you gave Ella's niece, Marisol. I had to find her a job in Newark to get her away from you."

"Marisol and I are just friends. Did she tell you I acted inappropriately with her?"

"No," Ranger said. "But I knew you were spending quite a bit of time with her. And you have to admit, you have a reputation."

"I was spending time with her because she was getting unwanted attention from a guy at her school. She thought he was stalking her, so I hung out with her to protect her. She was grateful for the job you got her because it gave her an excuse to leave Trenton. And I took care of her stalker."

"Took care of? Should I expect a lawsuit from this stalker?" Ranger asked.

Lester grinned. "Naw, I just scared him straight."

"And you and Marisol?"

"Like I said, we're just friends," Lester said, grinning widely.

"Now you're really worrying me. You told me earlier you were friends with Julie. What's your definition of friends? Your penchant for younger women is legendary, and in this case, that's not a good thing."

"Boss, you wound me. Yeah, I like girls, but I'm smart enough to only pursue girls over twenty-one. I don't mess with anything that's even close to being jailbait. And, as for your daughter, I'd lay down my life rather than hurt her ... or betray you in that way."

Ranger didn't say anything, but his anger dropped noticeably. "I'm still worried about Julie working at RangeMan. I don't think it's a good environment for an impressionable thirteen-year-old girl. The men are professional when they're with clients, but around the office their choice of conversation and language have a lot to be desired. Julie needs to be around kids her own age."

"That's your call, but, in my opinion, she's doing well here. I know she enjoys working for Stephanie. But in regards to her martial arts training, I do have one suggestion."

"What?"

"Julie's been training in the gym for about six weeks now, and she's good, but for her, martial arts is only about precision movements. There's no emotion involved, no sense of fear or urgency. She's never been threatened or afraid for her life."

Ranger's left brow raised. It took Lester a moment, but he finally realized the mistake he'd made. "Well, yeah, she has been threatened, but that was years ago. She's learning the movements, but I'm afraid she's not taking it seriously. I don't want her to get to the point that she stops listening to me or any other instructor. She needs to learn how to handle herself under stressful situations. That's the proof that she's really learning and improving."

"What are you suggesting?" Ranger asked.

"I'd like to plan some simulated attacks outside of RangeMan. Confront Julie in the parking lot or as she's leaving the house. See how she handles unexpected attacks in a setting where she normally feels safe. I mentioned it to her and she's all for it."

"I'd prefer she spend less time at RangeMan," Ranger mused, "but I can't allow you to blitzkrieg my daughter on public streets. The potential for something to go wrong is too high."

"I'd be careful," Les said, disappointed.

"I know. I appreciate you wanting to work with my daughter, but she's only thirteen. She shouldn't have to be constantly looking over her shoulder. I don't want her to live that kind of life. I want her to enjoy her childhood."

"Okay, but you're going to have to tell her it's a no go. She was looking forward to it."

"I'll tell her," Ranger said. "And Lester, thanks." They did one of those complicated fist bump things only guys do.

...

With the day's lesson finished, Tank handed Connor a bottle of water and opened one for himself. The gym had cleared out and they had the place to themselves. "I see great improvement in you, Connor. Mainly in your confidence. Martial arts requires aggression, but aggression controlled by confidence in one's abilities. When you first started training with me, your attacks were wild, undisciplined. Now you show forethought, self-control."

"Thanks, Tank," Connor said, a slow grin spreading across his face as he took in Tank's rare words of praise. "I've enjoyed working with you. You're a good teacher."

"I hear you went out on an alarm call with Lester and Bobby. How was that?"

Connor took a long swig of water. "It was fun. A little exciting at first, though the alarm turned out to be user-error. An employee not punching in the right code."

"Yeah, that happens with new clients a lot." Tank took a sip of water. "You've seen the security side of RangeMan. Are you interested in other aspects of your father's company?"

"You mean fugitive apprehension? I hear that's how Ranger met Stephanie. Didn't she used to be a bounty hunter?"

"Yeah, that's right. She was unorthodox, but effective. Her strengths lie in her people skills. That's why she's so good at customer relations."

"She certainly has a lot of _attributes_ ," Connor smirked.

Tank glanced at Connor, frowning a little at the tone in the young man's voice as he mentioned Stephanie. "She's well-qualified, as are all of our employees. There are a lot of job opportunities at RangeMan other than just installing and monitoring alarms, though that does constitute the majority of our work. We also do background screenings, executive protection, protective surveillance, and event security."

"Executive protection?"

"Bodyguarding."

Connor perked up. "Who have you guarded?"

"We don't publicize names, but we've handled personal security for politicians, CEOs, rock stars..."

"C'mon, rock stars? Give me a hint," Connor cajoled.

"Only the head of the company can release that information," Tank told him.

" _Phfft_. He'll never tell me. He doesn't tell me anything," Connor said, a note of disgust in his voice. "I take that back. He _tells_ me what to do. But talk to me? We never just talk."

"Have you tried to just talk to him?" Tank queried, and then added, "Without the attitude."

Connor just shrugged. It was obvious to Tank that father and son were having communication problems. And they wouldn't resolve them by avoiding each other. Tank considered the problem. With a quick nod, he decided that his workload was going to increase substantially and that he would no longer have time to train Ranger's son. Ranger was going to have to step up to the plate.


	28. Chapter 28

**CHAPTER 28**

 **Two Weeks Later**

Julie watched as her father instructed Connor on his defensive stance. They were the only ones using the gym so it was quiet enough to hear what they were saying. Ranger was explaining why the spread of the legs was so important; something about leverage. Connor was nodding and obediently following instructions.

She couldn't believe it was happening. Yes, she could. She'd predicted it. Her father had taken over Connor's martial arts training and now, they were getting close. They were bonding. And she was being left out, just like before. Just like with Ron and his _real_ children. Men always preferred their sons. Daughters were for patting on the head and sitting prettily—and silently—in the background.

Julie stayed by the doorway for a few more minutes, but she'd already seen all she needed. She heard her dad ask Connor, "What would you do if I attacked you from the front?" She didn't wait to hear Connor's answer. She turned and stormed out of the gym. By the time she reached Stephanie's office, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Luckily, Stephanie was in a meeting. Julie flopped down in her chair and let the tears come. After the waterworks had dried up, the anger started to build.

...

Connor bit back his scathing response to Ranger's question. Instead of answering, he positioned himself as he'd been taught, waiting for the attack to come. He was as tall as Ranger, but the older man had at least thirty pounds on him. Connor knew he was going down and going down hard.

He'd dreaded it when Tank had told him that Ranger would be assuming his training. He practically laughed out loud, remembering his first thought at being able to learn martial arts. He'd foolishly thought he was good enough to be able to take Ranger down. He'd wanted to wipe that arrogant look off Ranger's face the moment he'd met him. Now, he knew better. Screw all that bullshit that a smaller man could take down a larger man. He'd never be as good as Ranger. No one was as good as Ranger. But still, he'd give anything if he could just land one punch, one kick on him.

As Ranger moved toward him, Connor feigned to the left, inwardly groaning as his sore and bruised muscles complained. He grabbed Ranger's wrist and twisted it up and out, leaning in as he'd been taught, but he still found himself flying through the air and landing with a hard thud on the mat. He fought to suck air into his lungs, all the while hearing the drone of his father's voice telling him what he'd done wrong. This day was never going to end.

...

Julie pulled her stiletto boots on over the black lace stockings, and then stood up from the bed. She opened her closet door and studied her image in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the door. Smoothing down the vest, she admired the blood-red trim against the black leather. She turned her ankle and looked at herself from the back to make sure her miniskirt covered everything. Sitting would be a problem. She probably shouldn't cross her legs in this skirt. Leaning into the mirror, she used her fingers to blend in the pale makeup under her eyes. She'd gone full Goth for her first day of school.

Despite what her dad and Stephanie said, she saw the looks of disapproval on their faces when she wore the Goth makeup. Stephanie wasn't so bad, but her father didn't hide his displeasure at her appearance. With a shake of her head, she turned and prepared to face them. She knew they were waiting for her downstairs.

As she entered the kitchen, all eyes turned toward her. Her father was standing by the island, and Stephanie and Connor were sitting at the table, eating breakfast. She took in Connor's appearance. He had it so easy. All he had to do to get ready was throw on a pair of jeans, a shirt and a pair of work boots. It didn't even look like he'd combed his hair. He looked great.

Ella was the first to speak. "Honey, sit down and start on that melon. I'll have your eggs ready in a jiffy."

"Fruit will be fine, Ella. I'm too nervous to eat anything else." Julie sat down and picked up her spoon. She avoided looking at anyone.

Stephanie passed her a plate of buttered toast, but Julie shook her head. "Lunch is a long way off, Julie," Steph said. "A half piece?" she cajoled. With a martyred sigh, Julie snatched a triangle off the plate and took a bite. Stephanie gave her an encouraging smile.

"Speaking of lunch," Ranger said, "I hear today it's chicken fajitas." He stepped forward and handed both Julie and Connor several bills. "Have a productive day." Both children took the money, but neither looked at Ranger or thanked him.

Ranger and Stephanie walked Julie out to the gate to wait for the school bus as Connor rode out on his motorcycle. After the kids had left, Ranger put his arm around Steph and walked her back to the house. He shook his head. "I hate to see Julie back to wearing that hideous getup. Despite how gaudy it is, she seems to fade into the background when she's in it. She's so smart and so funny. If she tried, she could dominate that entire school."

"Have you considered that maybe she doesn't want to dominate?" Steph proffered. Ranger gave her an odd look. "Not everyone is cut out to be a leader."

"My daughter is a leader," Ranger declared. "She just needs to gain a bit more confidence in herself."

"I don't dispute that," Steph agreed. "She has the potential, but she can't see it, yet. Give her time to find herself."

"If she would just..."

"Ranger," Stephanie pleaded, "you need to back off. Let her find her own way. Our job is to support her. And that does not mean badgering her."

"You think I badger her?" Ranger asked.

Stephanie shrugged. "You can be pretty forceful. And you do like to get your own way."

"My way is the best way," he stated.

"For you—not necessarily for your kids. They need your encouragement, not your commands. They aren't your troops."

"It'd be much easier if they were," Ranger sighed. "It seems all I do is reprimand and discipline them."

"They're teenagers," Steph explained. "It's their job to push boundaries, stretch and grow. These are just growing pains."

"Pain being the operative word," Ranger griped.

"The pain goes both ways. I'm not saying you should try to be their friend, but there needs to be a balance between the good and not so good times," Stephanie advised. "Maybe we could plan a family trip, something fun. Something they both would like. Maybe a weekend at the shore. Point Pleasant, maybe? We could rent out a cottage or stay at one of the posh hotels. Neither of the kids have done the Boards. _Mmmmmm_. Some Italian hot dogs, Jersey Disco Fries, snow cones, saltwater taffy. How 'bout it, Ranger?"

He gave her an indecipherable look and then sighed. "I'll think about it," he said.

...

Julie pushed through the throng of kids and made her way to her locker. She found it quickly, thanks to the school's intro day Stephanie had made her go to last week. Connor had opted out and Ranger had let him. But her father had insisted that she go. It was just another thing that Ranger let Connor get away with. Despite her growing feelings of rejection, Julie found she really liked Connor. It was nice having an older brother, and he treated her like a real person, not like some little kid.

She dumped most of her books in the locker and grabbed a notepad and the textbook for her first class. She looked around and saw a greater diversity of kids than had been at her old school, not only in regard to race, but also in appearance. There were a lot of weird-looking kids in the hallways. She wasn't the only Goth; she wasn't even the most avant-garde.

She felt a gentle tug on her arm and swung around. She had to look down to see the tiny girl standing before her. The girl was striking, in her haircut, her makeup and her clothes. She was wearing a red, turquoise and yellow chequered mini-dress with a pair of pale yellow leggings. Her knee-high red boots had five-inch heels, but she still only came up to Julie's chest. But what was most striking about the girl was the bright turquoise blue color of her hair. She had a pixie cut, at least on the left half. The right side of her skull was shaved. Her makeup was dominated by a smokey eye complete with turquoise shadow. She also had a small diamond stud in her nose, and a horseshoe-shaped piercing at the end of her right eyebrow. In some strange way, it worked. She looked pulled together, even fashionable.

"Love the boots," the girl said. "I'm Tia."

"I'm Julie. I like your boots, too."

Tia turned her ankle and looked down at them. "Aren't they TD? I just had to buy them." she gushed, and then continued without taking a breath. "I'm so glad to finally be in high school. Elementary school was so ... you know, elementary," she said, exhaling loudly. "I went to J Witherspoon. Wherjewgo?"

Julie was taken back by Tia's run-together words, but she answered, "I just moved here. I used to live in Miami."

"Miami? Wow! That's awesome," Tia exclaimed. "You must spend every free moment at the shore."

"I wish. My family wasn't really into the beach scene. But now that I'm living here in New Jersey with my father and stepmother, I go more often."

"It's Jersey," Tia corrected. "If you call it _New_ Jersey, everyone will know you're a newbie. Of course, with that Miami _ax-cent_ , everyone will know anyway." Tia grinned.

"Accent? I don't have an accent. You, however," Julie grinned back at her, "have a definite _Joisey_ accent."

"I do _not_ say Joisey," Tia huffed. " _No one_ who lives in Jerzee says Joisey. However, we do say wor-der for water and fuuk-yew for... well, you know." Another grin.

"I'll try to keep up," Julie chuckled.

"What's your first class?"

Julie pulled out her schedule and studied it. "English. Room 106."

"Me, too," Tia said. "Wanna eat lunch together?"

"Sure," Julie said, smiling that she'd made a new friend in her new hometown. She chuckled to herself. If her dad hated her Goth look, she wondered how he'd react to Tia?

...

Connor was nervous as he pulled into the high school's parking area designated for student motorcycles. He took a good look at the various bikes parked in the small lot. He was pleased to see that his bike fit in well. Thanks to Uncle Chase, Connor mused. Not for the first time, Connor questioned his decision to live with Ranger instead of his uncle. Ranger was always on his case. No matter what he did, Ranger found fault with it. He would be so glad when he graduated and could move back to Kipton.

The rumble of a chopper overwhelmed all other noise as another student rode into the lot. The big black bike was over-the-top with extenders on the front and a big fat tire on the back. The teen who climbed off the bike was also over-the-top. When he removed his helmet, he had to straighten his dark hair, which was cut into a thick spiky Mohawk. His tight black pants and matching jacket were made of a shiny synthetic material. The black t-shirt he wore underneath sported metallic blue graphics that matched the metallic blue strips around the cuffs of the pants and jacket. It was quite the fashion statement.

Connor looked down at his faded jeans and well-worn black leather jacket and felt a little plain. Glancing around at the other students making their way to the school's front door, he noticed how outrageously many of the kids dressed here, nothing like in Ohio. First bell sounded and Connor grabbed his helmet and backpack and started making his way across the parking lot.

The next thing he knew, the Mohawk-coifed biker had caught up to him and was walking alongside of him. The boy reached across his chest and offered his free hand. As they shook hands—and walked—the boy introduced himself.

"Hey," he said, "nice bike. I'm Don. Don Giovacchini."

"Thanks. Your chopper is deadass dope. I'm Connor Madrid."

"You must be new," Don remarked. "I've never seen you around and I know all the bikes in Princeton."

Connor nodded. "The bike's new, too. It's a custom job. My uncle owns Chase Your Dreams."

"Sweet! I got my first bike there. It's mad chill. A real dope place."

"Yeah, he's got shops all over. He carries only the coolest bikes. He's chill, too."

"You're lucky. I had to beg for my bike. My dad is definitely not chill. Maybe you could introduce me to your uncle sometime?" Don hinted.

"Sure, anytime." Connor told him. They'd reached the front door and entered the front lobby of the high school. Student lockers lined the wide hallway beyond. The two teens waded through the milling crowd. They discovered their lockers were only two away from each other.

"So, what's this school like?" Connor asked. "Do they have a good football team?"

"The school's okay. The football team sucks. We can't compete with the inner city schools in Trenton, let alone Newark. Our basketball team is better, though."

Conversation stopped as a group of girls walked by. Don reached his hand out to touch one of the girls. She was an attractive girl, tall and slim with long blonde hair. Connor couldn't take his eyes off of her. She responded to Don by slapping his hand away. "Don't you dare touch me, you bastard," she cried, but there wasn't much heat in her rebuff. "Not after leaving me high and dry at Marcy's last weekend. I had to call my dad to come and get me."

"Sorry, Ashleigh," Don said. "I hooked up with Trina and lost track of time." He grinned and her long blonde hair slapped him in the face as she turned and stormed down the hall. He turned back to Connor and saw him staring after Ashleigh. "She's a looker, huh?" he said. "I could introduce you, if you're interested?"

"I'm interested," Connor said. Not too shabby, he mused. He'd only been at school for a few minutes and had made a new friend and a potential girlfriend.


	29. Chapter 29

**CHAPTER 29**

 **Two Weeks Later**

Connor settled into the lounger and crossed his feet at the ankles. He leaned his head against the cool canvas fabric and gazed at the winterized pool. It was early in September, but already the cool of the evening had an edge to it. He was home alone, for the moment, and he was feeling restless, bored, and lonely. He'd made it seem as if it was no big deal to leave his friends and move to another state, but on this cool night in fall, it seemed a very big deal. As if to emphasize the point his phone dinged with an incoming text message.

The guys had been texting him all afternoon. It was homecoming weekend in Kipton, and there were lots of activities going on. Activities he should have been part of. The game and the dance were tomorrow, but school had let out early today for the homecoming parade—a parade where he should have been riding on the senior float with the other starters on the football team. Tonight, his buddies would be country cruising, and he wished he could be there with them.

He could picture it clearly. They'd have a quart of whiskey that Johnny would have lifted from his father's liquor cabinet, and somebody's older brother would have bought them a 24-pack of Natty Light. They'd cruise the backroads, howl at the moon, toss their empties in the ditch and occasionally stop to take a leak. There'd be the usual talk about girls and who was going to do what with Angie Adams, and who had already done what with her. Connor smiled at remembrance of some of the times he'd had with Angie.

The sound of the patio door sliding open behind him brought Connor's thoughts back to the present. He turned to see his sister step out onto the patio. _His sister._ He still had trouble remembering she was his sister. She was beyond hot, and sometimes he wished he could transport Julie with him back to Kipton. He'd love to have his buddies meet her. And then he reconsidered, remembering the talk about Angie. Julie was just a kid, and even though they didn't know each other that well, he felt sort of responsible for her. That was a crazy thought though, the idea that somehow he needed to protect her. She could probably kick his butt. She was excelling at the martial arts training they were both getting.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," she responded. "What are you doing out here?"

"Nothing. Just texting with some of my buddies back home. I miss them sometimes. What about you? Don't you miss your friends?"

"Not really so much," Julie said. "I only had one good friend, Melissa, and I still keep in touch with her. I do miss my … uh, family."

Connor knew by her hesitation. "It's okay," he told her. "You can say it. I miss my mom, too."

"I'm sorry, Connor."

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. I miss her a lot. It's why I decided to move back here, so I could be close to her brother. I thought I should get to know him better. I could have stayed with one of my friends and finished school in Kipton. My best friend wanted me to live with his family, and I think we could have talked his mom into it, but..." he paused. "When Ranger and Chase said I had to come to live with one of them, I didn't try to fight it. Sometimes I wish I had, though."

"I'm glad you're here," Julie said, "But I'm kind of surprised you didn't want to live with your Uncle Chase."

"Yeah, well. He's got a lot going on," Connor said. "His kid is better and getting stronger, but Chase and his wife are all about the kid, so I decided to stay here. It's a pretty awesome place, especially when Ranger isn't hovering over me."

"He's okay," Julie said. "He's used to ordering men around at RangeMan, and sometimes I think he doesn't really know how to act with other people."

"Huh!" Connor exclaimed. "He doesn't order Stephanie around. She's pretty awesome."

Julie smiled. "If he did order her around she wouldn't listen. She doesn't like to be told what to do. And I think she's awesome, too."

Connor's phoned dinged and he took a moment to read the incoming text. "I was right, they are country cruising! Damn, I'm missing a good time."

"What?"

"Nothing important," he said. "My friends are partying tonight, and I wish I was there with them."

"I wish you could be with them, too," Julie said. "You seem sad and I don't like to see you that way. I have something to tell you though that might cheer you up a little."

"Like what?" he asked with mild interest. Julie was cool, but she didn't really know him well enough yet to know what would cheer him up.

"I've been working for Stephanie quite a bit lately. She lets me type her notes and organize her files. And today I was typing up notes about the time she and your uncle were looking for your mom."

His interest picked up. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," Julie said, grinning at him. "The thing is, your mom grew up in Newark, in an area called the Ironbound. Stephanie went to Newark and tried to find people who'd remember your mom. And she found someone. I think it might be an old boyfriend of your mom's."

"Did he help Stephanie find my mom?" Connor asked.

"Well, no, I don't think he did, but her notes said he remembered her and that he went to your grandpa's funeral. He still lives in Newark. His name is Jackson Bomba. I thought maybe you'd want to meet him sometime."

"Yeah, that would be cool," Connor said. "Did you get his address?"

"No. Stephanie went to see him at work. He runs an auto parts store."

Connor's phone dinged again. This time he didn't read the text, but shut his phone off instead. "You hungry?" he asked his half-sister. "We could take a little road trip and go get a burger."

"I am hungry," Julie said. "But I'm sure Ella left something in the fridge for us."

"It'll keep," Connor said. "I feel like doing a little cruising tonight. Are you up for it?"

"I don't know," Julie said. "Dad and Stephanie are having a date night. I don't want to interrupt them."

"Interrupt them? You mean by calling to see if you can go out?" he teased.

Julie nodded and Connor snorted in disgust. "You're not a baby," he said. "We can go grab a bite and do a little cruising and be home way before they get back."

"You may be right," Julie said. "I heard Dad tell Stephanie to go upstairs to his apartment to get ready, and I think he was planning on going back there after dinner."

"I bet I know what he's got planned!" Connor smirked as Julie blushed at the realization of why they might return to the RangeMan apartment after dinner.

"Come on," Connor said. "I'll buy the burgers and then we'll take a ride. Maybe we can find the auto parts place where that Jackson guy works."

"I don't know," Julie said. "I just got my iPhone and laptop back, and I don't want to make Dad mad again."

"Whaddaya mean? Just got your phone back?"

"It's a long story," Julie said. "I did something that upset Dad. He's a little more computer-savvy than my mom and stepdad were. Anyway, it's history now, and he's given me back my phone and computer and I don't want to do anything to upset him again."

"I don't think going out to grab a burger would upset him, even if he got back before we were home. C'mon, let's go."

"Okay," Julie said. "I guess it would be alright."

When they walked into the garage, Connor came to an abrupt halt. "Shit! I forgot! My truck is at the RangeMan garage. A couple of the guys are overhauling it for me."

"We could take your bike," Julie suggested.

Connor laughed. "Oh, sure. We could. You're afraid Ranger'd get pissed if he found out we went out for a burger and a ride. What do you think he'd say if he caught you on the back of my bike? No, I'm not looking for that kind of trouble. We'll borrow Stephanie's car. She won't mind."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, sure I'm sure. Stephanie is cool. She won't mind. She probably wouldn't even have to know, because we'll be back before they come home. But I'll tell her. She's been straight with me, so I'll be straight with her."

They drove through McDonalds and ate their burgers as they headed for Newark. "This car is really nice," Julie said. "I hope I don't spill anything."

"It's a great car," Connor agreed. "I haven't been around Stephanie that much, but from what I know of her, I'm betting this isn't the first time fast food has been eaten in here."

Julie laughed. "That's true. I've actually eaten doughnuts in here with Stephanie. I forgot about that. Still, I'm being careful. I don't want to leave evidence of what we're doing."

"So, this is our secret then?" Connor asked. "I'm not sure why, but I don't want to tell anyone I'm hoping to meet one of my mom's friends. It's kinda weird, but this seems private. You know—just my business."

"I get that," Julie said. "So, yeah, this is our secret. Kind of our own black ops mission."

"What?" Connor laughed.

"Black ops, you know. Secret missions. I've heard the guys at RangeMan talk about them. They say that Dad has been involved in many black ops."

"If they are so secret how does anyone know?" Connor asked.

It was Julie's turn to laugh. "I don't know, but I believe he was involved in those kinds of things when he was in the Army. And maybe even after."

Connor was silent for a moment remembering his conflicts with Ranger, the latest when he'd been smoking in the garage. Yeah, he could believe it, too.

Julie used the navigation program on her phone to direct Connor to the auto parts store where Jackson Bomba worked. The store was in the warehouse district by the docks. They figured the store would be closed as it was nearing eight in the evening.

"It should be in the middle of the next block," Julie said. "It's called Wilson's Automotive."

"I see a 7-Eleven and a Chinese food place that are open," Connor said, searching the block. "There it is. Look, it's still open." He turned off the main road and pulled up in front of the store. There were no other cars nearby so he parked where they had a view of the inside of the store. There was a man sitting behind the counter, reading a magazine. They watched for a minute but the man never moved.

"We should go in," Julie said. "Maybe that guy is Jackson Bomba, or maybe he knows him."

"Okay, let's go," Connor said. They exited the car and as they entered the store he used the fob to lock the Macan's doors. The resultant beep was heard by the man behind the counter, and he looked up to see the two teenagers walking toward him. He looked past them at the car, and then asked them, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, we're looking for Jackson Bomba," Connor said. "Do you know him?"

"That depends on what you want with him," the man said.

"Just some information," Julie explained. "This is my half-brother, Connor, and I'm Julie. Mr. Bomba used to know his mother, Corrine Silva."

"I was hoping to be able to talk to him about my mom," Connor said.

"That figures," the man said. "The last time that car was in my lot a nosy chick was in here asking about the same person."

"That would have been Stephanie," Julie said. "You remember that car?" She turned and pointed at the Macan visible from the light of the store. "That's amazing that you'd remember one car in particular."

"Not so amazing," the man said, "when it's a Porsche with a custom paint job. They don't make it in that color at the factory."

"My dad had it painted especially for her," Julie said. "It was a wedding present and he wanted it the same color as her eyes."

"So, this Stephanie is your step-mama?" the man asked.

"Yes, Stephanie Mañoso. She's my stepmom."

"Listen, man, no offense, but we're kind of short on time," Connor said. "If you could tell us when Mr. Bomba works we'll come back and talk with him."

"I'm Jax Bomba," the man said. "And if your mother is Corrine Silva, then yeah, I used to know her."

"That's great," Julie said. "Can you tell us about her?"

"Sure, I can tell you what she used to be like. Maybe you can tell me what she's like now. You said this guy was your brother," he said to Julie. "This Mañoso guy dump Corrine for a newer model?"

"No!" Connor said, vehemently. "My mother was never married to Carlos Mañoso. She was married to... my father. She died recently and I just wanted to meet someone who knew her when she was young."

"Well, that'd be me. I didn't know she'd passed." He paused, either out of respect for the deceased or gauging the kids in front of him. "Your mom and me, we hung out together quite a bit. She was a fun girl, and real proud of her Portuguese blood. We all were. It's what bound us together, kind of like our own special gang."

"My mother was in a gang?" Connor asked skeptically. He couldn't imagine his mother in a gang.

"Not that kind of gang," Jackson Bomba said. "Just a group of like-minded kids hanging out, doing stuff. I was real fond of your mama. I gotta say, she was a real looker. Corrine was special, different than the other girls and a lot smarter than them. She was planning on going to college. Talked about becoming a 'big shot' business tycoon. But then her old man died and she had to move away. I never saw her again after that. Sorry to hear she's passed. She was nice."

The door chimed and the three of them looked over to see a young man walk in. "Sorry, Bud, it's about closing time," Jax said.

"Oh shit," Connor said. "Julie, we need to get going. Thanks, uh, Jax. For talking to me about my mom." He started walking toward the door.

"No problem," Jax said. "You guys live near here? You could come see me again. We could talk more. I got lots of stories."

"No, we live in Trenton," Julie told him. "I don't think we'll be back any time soon." She paused. "But if you remember anything more about Corrine Silva, call me." She scribbled her cell number on one of the store's business cards and pushed it across the counter, then ran to catch up to Connor.

Jackson Bomba picked up the card and watched them get into the Macan. He turned to the kid who'd just walked in. "You want something or are you just window shopping? I'm closing up."

The kid set an oil filter on the counter and said, "You got another one of these? This was the last one on the shelf."

"I'll have to get it from the back," Jax complained. When he returned from the back room, he rang up the order quickly and ushered the guy out. He locked the doors and turned down the lights. He went in the office at the back of the store and logged on to the computer. He had names. Stephanie and Carlos Mañoso. He'd told the kid his mother had been nice, and that was the truth. He remembered Corrine had been very _nice._ Unfortunately, she'd moved before he'd sampled her goods. Mañoso's daughter was nice, too. But he wouldn't be sampling those goods either. That was okay. He had another plan.

...

"I'm glad we did this," Julie said. "Mr. Bomba was nice even if he didn't know much about your mom."

"Are you kidding?" Connor said as he pulled onto the highway. "The man was a sleaze. Didn't you notice how he was looking at you?"

"I guess not," Julie said. "How was he looking?"

"He was looking at you like … like an old guy shouldn't look at a young girl. It was creepy."

"I guess he was maybe a little creepy," Julie conceded. "But it was nice of him to talk about your mom to you."

"Yeah, well, I got the feeling he knows a lot more about my mom than he said." Connor was quiet for a moment, paying attention to the traffic, which was heavy. "I'm going to tell Stephanie we did this," he said. "I want to know what she thought about him."

"Then this won't be our black op," Julie said.

"Sure, it will," Connor said. "If we make it home before they do, we won't tell them we went anywhere. I'll mention it to Stephanie, but I won't tell her when, exactly, we went."

"What do you mean, 'if we make it home'?" Julie asked. "You said they'd be out late."

"I hope they will," Connor said. "But we're running later than I thought we would. We'll make it though. This little baby runs fast and smooth." He depressed the accelerator and pulled into the passing lane. If he had anything to say about it, the car would be in the garage with a cool engine before Ranger and Stephanie came home.

They were just a few blocks from home and Connor was starting to relax. He didn't think Stephanie would mind that they took her car, but he was uncertain about Ranger's feelings. He heard Julie's cry, "Look out!" at the same time he saw the black lab run into the road in front of him. He braked and swerved, and the dog escaped to the ditch uninjured. The rush of adrenaline was so great he almost didn't hear the sound. Almost. The scraping of metal against metal was unmistakable. Without thinking he braked and the car sat unmoving at the edge of the road.

"Oh shit! You hit that fire hydrant!" Julie exclaimed.

"Oh shit is right," Connor said. The road was dark and there was no traffic. He gingerly pressed on the gas pedal and was relieved when the car moved forward. "Let's get home," he said. "We can check the damage there." His hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold the wheel.

A few minutes later, when they were standing next to the car in the garage, the full impact of what had happened hit Connor. There was a deep scrape that started behind the front wheel well and extended to the back quarter panel. There was red paint from the fire hydrant along the crease, and Connor was betting the fire hydrant had a coat of blue that would match Stephanie's eyes. He looked at Julie. "Ranger is going to kill me. Let's go inside. I think I need a drink."


	30. Chapter 30

**CHAPTER 30**

 **Same Day**

What had his life come to? He'd once promised Stephanie that they'd make love in every room of the Bat Cave. Not only were they not making love at the Bat Cave, they'd snuck off to RangeMan to have some privacy in his old apartment. Not that it was private. Everyone on monitor duty knew they were in the building, and everyone had a good idea of what they were doing. And now as they were attempting to make a quiet getaway from RangeMan they were met by Tank.

"Sorry to interrupt," Tank said in a tone that indicated he wasn't sorry at all. They were standing in the garage next to the Turbo getting ready to head back home. He'd just as soon they spend the night in his apartment, but Stephanie didn't think Julie and Connor should be left alone. "Did you know your _kids_ were out joyriding in Stephanie's car tonight?" Tank asked.

"No," Ranger said. "But I think I'm going to hear all about it."

"They left a couple of hours ago and made a stop at McDonalds. Then they went to Newark."

"Newark?" Ranger questioned. "To my parents?"

"No. To Wilson's Automotive."

"An auto parts store?" Ranger asked. "He had to go to Newark to buy parts?"

Stephanie spoke for the first time. "I don't think he was buying auto parts. That's the store Jackson Bomba works in." Both men turned to her with raised eyebrows.

"I'll bite," Tank said. "Who's Jackson Bomba?"

"He was Connor's mother's first boyfriend, I think. I went to talk to him when I was looking for Corrine." She paused and then focused on Tank. "I have a question, Tank. Do you have RangeMan employees following Connor and Julie?"

"No. We don't. The tracker on the Macan showed movement and Hal knew you were with Ranger in the Turbo so he alerted me. We watched and when they stopped at the store in Newark I dispatched a unit to put eyes on the vehicle. It was Connor and Julie."

"Why the hell did he take the Macan?" Ranger asked. Tank looked over his shoulder and Ranger's eyes followed. He saw Connor's POS truck and remembered it was being overhauled. "He should have asked permission…"

"Wait," Stephanie interrupted. "My Macan has a tracker on it? I willingly carry one in my purse, but you put one on my car, too?"

Ranger and Tank exchanged a quick glance. "It's standard," Tank said. "All RangeMan vehicles have trackers."

"The Macan is my personal car. Does your personal vehicle, your truck, have a standard RangeMan tracker?" she asked Tank.

"Uh, no."

Stephanie whirled to face Ranger. She poked a finger at his chest. "Does the Turbo have a standard RangeMan tracker?" Her finger had inadvertently grazed his still sensitive nipple through the fabric of his shirt. Less than an hour ago that same finger was flicking across the same nipple driving him freaking crazy. Where had that wild woman gone? The woman facing him was flushed, just like the wild woman had been, but he realized her color was coming from anger now.

"Answer the question, Ranger."

"No," he sighed. "The Turbo does not have a RangeMan tracker."

"You're missing the point, Stephanie," Tank said. "The point of this conversation is that Connor and Julie took a little joyride in your vehicle. Obviously without your permission."

"It's not me that's missing the point," Stephanie responded. "I don't care if Connor took my car. If they wanted to go out and get something to eat, they had to either take my car or his bike. It seems like he made a good decision."

Ranger pulled her toward the Turbo. "C'mon, Babe. Let's go home. We'll find out what they were up to."

"All right," she said grudgingly. "But this isn't over. I won't forget. I'm management now. You should both be ashamed that you treat me differently than you treat yourselves. That's gender bias. You could be in big trouble!"

Ranger sighed and tried, without success, to slip into his zone as they exited the parking garage. Now Stephanie was upset, and he was upset as well, because although he hated to admit it, he was in the wrong with this. He should have at least told her about the tracker. He wasn't sorry that it was there, but he was sorry that she found out in the way that she had.

The fact was, there was a tracker, and it had worked. Now he was going to find out why in the hell Connor and Julie needed to talk to Corrine's old boyfriend.

…..

Stephanie endured the ride home in silence. She wanted to rant and rave at her husband, but she realized she might be unearthing some buried angst against Joe in this situation with Ranger. Her feelings were hurt because he hadn't told her about the tracker and because it was clear she'd been treated differently than Ranger and Tank had treated themselves. Oh sure, intellectually she knew they were more capable than she was of taking care of themselves. And Ranger always listened to her, considered her opinion when making decisions that affected them both. That was very un-Joe-like. He loved her and was faithful to her. They were equal partners in their relationship, mostly. Ranger was everything Joe hadn't been, and she was happy, mostly. So, she tamped down her irritation, her anger really, because there were other things going on with her husband, and he needed her support.

Ranger pulled into the garage and exited the car immediately. Stephanie bent to slip the heels she'd kicked off back on and reached for the door handle to find Ranger was already there and had opened the door for her. He moved so quickly, so cat-like. It was one of the things that had first attracted her to him. One of the many things.

He reached a hand to her and helped her from the deep bucket seat of the Turbo, and as she rose he pulled her against him. They kissed, and her mind went back to just an hour before when they'd been so in sync, moving in a passion-filled dance of love. He hadn't spoken since they left the garage at RangeMan, but his kiss was speaking for him now. They parted and she reached for his hand. It was an unspoken truce, and her anger at finding out about the tracker had been effectively tamped down. They began to walk hand-in-hand toward the door.

The hesitation in his step and his sharply indrawn breath were her first clues that there was more trouble ahead. They came to an abrupt halt and her eyes saw what his had seen.

"Oh, no!" she cried softly.

She sensed his anger from the slight tightening of his hand around hers, and from the absolute lack of expression on his face. He started for the house, but she pulled back on his hand.

"Ranger, wait." She searched his face for a clue. There was the almost imperceptible tightening at the edge of his mouth. "Are you upset about the car?" He nodded slightly. "Don't be," she said. "Every time I've destroyed one of your cars, you always say, 'It's just a car.' This is just a car. I don't know what happened but as long as they're not hurt…."

He relaxed his grip on her hand slightly. "You're right. It is just a car. It can be repaired or replaced. But they took it without permission."

"They probably just wanted to go out and enjoy the night. It's a great night, and they're young. And they went together. That's a great thing. They're bonding, becoming friends. And that's the first step to them becoming more like the siblings they are."

His arm came around her shoulders and he pulled her briefly against him before stepping back. "You're probably right, Babe." He smiled, a little, and although it didn't reach his eyes, she knew he was trying. "Let's go inside. Because sibling bonding aside, they've got some 'splainin' to do."

She laughed more with hope than delight. Ranger knew his rare impersonations of Ricky Ricardo made her smile, and she knew that he was trying to placate her. She was pleased he'd made the effort, but not surprised when all his efforts to control his mood vanished. It happened the minute they turned the corner into the kitchen.

Even Stephanie was surprised. Connor was standing at the back of the island giving every appearance of chugging the contents of a can of beer. Julie was at the other end of the island stacking empty cans into a small but recognizable pyramid.

"What the fuck?" It was uttered low, from a man whose posture and expression radiated a deadly calm. Oh shit, Stephanie thought. She knew what that calm meant. Connor stopped mid-chug and set the can down. Julie straightened so suddenly that the pyramid went tumbling. She side-stepped slightly and Stephanie's heart sunk. She recognized that side-step. Julie had been drinking too, not just stacking cans. And she'd had enough to make her legs wobbly.

"Both of you are underage and you're drinking," Ranger continued. "Were you drinking prior to your joyride? The one where you took my wife's car without permission and wrecked it?"

Connor looked squarely at Ranger, and both Ranger and Stephanie could see that his eyes were unfocused. "Yeah, dude, I took my sister out for a ride when I was wasted," Connor said. And then he burped.

"No! No, he didn't," Julie cried. Her eyes were huge in a face that was pale.

"That's what he wants to hear, Julie. He wants to hear that I screwed up bad so he can get rid of me. I'm not a mini-Ranger like you're trying to be, kid. And that's what he wants."

Ranger moved across the room and stood directly in front of Connor. "What the hell were you doing in Newark, talking with your mother's old boyfriend?"

Connor's eyes widened and then he frowned. "I was talking to him about my mother. I have a right to know about my mother. What's the deal, Ranger? Are you jealous my mom had someone besides you?"

Ranger's jaw tightened, but he ignored the taunt. "You took Stephanie's car without permission, wrecked it, got drunk and let my daughter drink!" He took a step closer. "I want to know in what order that happened."

Connor held his ground, but he leaned back a bit. "It happened in that order," he said. "We hit a fire hydrant on the way home. When we got here, my buddies sent me a text message and challenged me to build a bigger pyramid than they did." He swallowed a burp and then looked over at the overturned empty beer cans. "End of story."

"I don't think so," Ranger said.

"Dad, don't be mad at Connor. It's my fault," Julie said, "I told him about Jackson Bomba. I found out about him from Stephanie's notes. It's not Connor's fault that the car got dented. It's the dog's fault! And he didn't let me drink. I let me drink. I'm trying to help him. It's important, to help your brother."

Ranger looked disappointedly at Julie. She wasn't making any sense and her eyes were unfocused. "Connor's drinking beer so he can send a text message to his buddies in Kipton," she continued. "They're drinking beer, too, and their pyramid of cans is really big. And I'm drinking beer to help make his pyramid bigger." She reached for an empty can and placed it upright in front of her—the start of a new pyramid.

Ranger looked at Stephanie. She shrugged her shoulders. "I got nuthin'," she said. "I have no idea what to do." That wasn't quite true. She thought she knew exactly what needed to be done, but she thought Ranger needed to figure it out.

Ranger came close to Stephanie and leaned down to talk directly in her ear. "I've got to get some space, Babe. If I don't get away from him for a while, I'm going to hurt the cocky bastard." She saw his eyes widen in realization. He'd just called his son a bastard, and by definition, that's what Connor was. Ranger spun on his heel and left through the door they'd just entered. The resounding slam of the door caused all three of the remaining occupants to startle.

Stephanie took a good look at Connor. She was certain he hadn't heard Ranger. She glanced at the fallen pyramid of cans on the island. "How many of these are yours?" she asked Julie.

"Uh … two." Stephanie looked at the counter. That meant Connor had five beers. Not enough to make him falling down drunk, but enough to have given him the courage to talk back to Ranger. Something needed to be done, and since she was the only adult in the room, she figured she'd do it. Her earlier anger at Ranger was resurrected briefly. These weren't her kids and this wasn't her problem. But Ranger had pulled her ass out of the fire many, many times, so she'd do the same for him.

"Where'd he go?" Connor asked. "Out to look and see if he can find any empties in the car. I swear I didn't drink and drive." Connor's words gave her the perfect opening for what she needed to do.

"He's gone for a while. Either to keep from killing you or to make arrangements to hide your bod … uh, the evidence if he does kill you."

"Yeah, sure," Connor snorted.

Julie's eyes opened even wider. "He does kill people, sometimes," she told Connor. "When Scrog was after me, he tried to kill him."

"Ranger has control problems," Stephanie said. "He's mostly in complete control, but when something bad happens that causes him to lose his temper … well, look out. He killed a man who was..." she paused. "Rumor has it that he killed a man who abused me and made him write a suicide note before he did it." Connor's eyes widened and Julie was nodding.

"I think he killed a guy when he was in a gang, in Newark, when he was young. That's why his mother sent him to live with his grandmother in Miami," Julie said. Stephanie wondered where Julie had gotten that idea, but decided it would be good to let the statement go uncontested, at least tonight.

"C'mon guys, let's go in the living room," Stephanie said. "Sit down and get comfortable while I figure out how I can keep Ranger from hurting you, Connor."

"You're shittin' me, Stephanie. He wouldn't dare."

"He might. I've rarely seen him as upset as he was when he saw the Macan. I might have a plan, though. First tell me everything that happened tonight."

Connor leaned back in the chair and let Julie do most of the talking. He interrupted when Julie tried to take the blame for taking her car without permission.

"That was completely my idea," Connor said. "I didn't think you'd care."

"I don't care. But maybe next time, just shoot me a text. You should know that when you're part of this family, all of your vehicles, and mine as well, are monitored," she said, a little bitterly. "The control room called Ranger when they saw my car on the move. They knew I was with Ranger so it couldn't have been me. Next time, just let me know. Okay?"

Connor frowned but nodded his head. "Will do," he mumbled.

"Now about this killing you thing," Stephanie continued. "I'm not sure if he was mad enough to kill or just hurt. I know that he will punish you somehow, so I think I know a way to fix that. I'll punish you instead. When he comes home I'll tell him I already did it. He won't go against me. I know that. So, what do you think? Should I discipline you?"

"Yes," they said in unison.

Stephanie took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I hate to do this," she said. "But I have to so Ranger can't go off the deep end when he comes back. What if I ground you?"

"Yeah," Connor said. "That'd be good."

"Okay. The same punishment for both of you. You're grounded for a month. No devices, and no driving for you, Connor. Not your bike, your truck or my car. You'll have to take the bus to school with Julie."

"That's pretty harsh," Connor said.

"Well, if you'd rather have Ranger punish you…"

Connor stood from the chair. "I'm going to bed."

"Me too," Julie said. She gave Stephanie a long steady look before she left the room and Stephanie wondered if Julie had seen through her plan. She shut out the light and went up to go to bed by herself. She wondered where Ranger was. She could call Tank if she was really worried, but she wouldn't. She needed a little time away from him as badly as he needed it away from his children.

Later, she felt Ranger slide into bed next to her. She hadn't heard him come in, or undress, but she could feel enough of his warm satiny skin to suppose he was naked. He shifted and she could feel his hardness against her. She wasn't that easy.

"Where'd you go?"

"To RangeMan. I made arrangements to have your car repaired." Ranger was quiet for a while, debating what to say, not really knowing what to tell her. It had been a long time since he'd felt so unsure of himself. The truth was that he wasn't clear in his own mind about what was bothering him, but something was. Something more than just the thoughtless antics of his children. "I talked to Tank for a while and then I came back and took the tracker off the Macan. I won't put another on without your knowledge."

She snuggled closer against him. "I grounded your children," she told him. "I told them that since you were gone it was up to me, and I took away all privileges for a month. You shouldn't have left."

"I had to," he said. "I called my son a bastard." He bowed his head, leaning his forehead against hers. "I was overwhelmed with the truth of what I'd said. He's already had a father he loved, so he doesn't want me to be a father to him. But... I think... I think I want to be a father to him."

"Give it time, Ranger. Connor is going through some rough stuff grieving for his mother, his friends and his old life all at the same time. It will get better. I have something that may cheer you up."

He reached his hand under her RangeMan t-shirt and started sliding his fingers up past her waist.

"Not that," she said. "At least not until I tell you something. Did you notice what they were drinking?"

"Beer."

"Yes, but did you notice what kind of beer?"

Ranger was still for a moment but then she felt his body quiver against hers. He was laughing. "The Meister Brau?" he asked.

"Yeah, the beer that Lester left in the refrigerator at our wedding."

"Do you know the story behind that beer?" he asked.

"Uh-huh. It's at least ten years old. It's what's left of a case of beer that was so bad you guys couldn't even finish it. Lester told me he'd been saving it for a special occasion, and our wedding was it."

"They're going to be sick tomorrow," Ranger said.

"Very," Stephanie replied. "Will you do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Be kind tomorrow. They've received their punishment and they'll deal with it. Don't keep throwing this up in their faces. And maybe tomorrow … maybe you should make an appointment to see that nice person I've been talking to. Dr. Fincher."

He was quiet for a bit. "I'll consider it," he said.

"Good, now roll over. You were a bad boy leaving me to deal with your children. You're going to have to be disciplined too, and I don't think grounding is the correct punishment for your crime."

"Babe."


	31. Chapter 31

**CHAPTER 31**

 **Three Weeks After the Accident**

"I can't tell what's in this, can you?" Connor asked, toying with the plate of indistinguishable glop before him. He had to raise his voice to be heard above the din in the school cafeteria.

Don grinned. "I bet it makes for a good projectile, though," he said, spooning up a bunch of it and aiming it at Connor.

"Don't even think about it, dude," Connor warned his friend. "I'm not in the mood."

"Still grounded?" Don asked, eating the spoonful of mystery pasta.

Connor nodded. "One more week left. The worst part is being unable to ride my bike. I hate having to take the bus to school. It's demeaning."

"The _worst_ part is missing out on the good times. There's a big party happening this Saturday at Marcy's and she throws the wildest raves." Don lifted his brow in emphasis. "Can't you slip out and join us?"

Connor blew out a noisy breath. "I won't be off probation until after this weekend. I'm not going to blow it just for one party. Besides, I have to go to a wedding this Saturday evening. One of my da... a guy I work with is getting hitched."

"Your parents are going to let you go to a wedding, but you can't go to a party?"

"The guy getting married works for their company. That's the only reason they're letting me go. I'm going stir crazy staying at home, so a wedding is better than nothing." Connor's head swiveled as a tall blonde entered the cafeteria.

Don followed his gaze. "You still haven't asked Ashleigh out?"

Connor shook his head, but kept his eyes glued to the pretty girl as she went through the food line.

"I'm going to take care of that, right now." Don lifted his hand and waved at Ashleigh. She smiled and crossed the room to their table. Don shifted over to give her room to sit directly across from Connor.

As she set her tray on the table, she complained, "This stuff blows. The only thing edible today is the salad." She picked up a slice of cucumber and popped it in her mouth. "What's up with you guys?" She steadied her gaze on Connor as she chewed.

"Want to go to a wedding this Saturday?" Don asked Ashleigh. "Connor needs a date."

Connor choked on his lunch. "NO!"

"No you don't need a date, or No you don't want me to be your date?" Ashleigh queried, looking through slitted eyes at Connor.

Connor wiped his mouth on a napkin, thinking furiously. "I ... I'm just going to a work thing with my old man and Stephanie...his wife."

"Your stepmom?" she asked.

Connor frowned. "Sort of." He shrugged. "In any case, it wouldn't be a fun date. I may not even go. I may just stay home. I'm still grounded for another week."

"Then maybe I could come over to your house and we could have some fun?" Ashleigh offered.

"There you go," Don pronounced. "It's a date. This Saturday night, your place."

A flash of panic shot through Connor, but he quickly recovered when he saw the way Ashleigh was smiling at him. "Yeah. My place. Saturday night. Let's do it."

Ashleigh tilted her head. "Um, do it?" she questioned.

Connor gave a sly grin. "I meant, it's a date. That's all."

...

The loud rumble could be heard even inside the house. A few seconds later, the room lit up and there was a loud _CRACK_ and lightning struck somewhere nearby. The rain hadn't started yet, but the forecast had predicted several inches of rain and strong winds.

Connor was alone in the house again, and this time, he was truly alone. Even Ella and Louis had gone to Vincent's wedding. Ranger had temporarily lifted his and Julie's punishment of having to stay home when not in school, but only for attendance at that evening's RangeMan wedding. Connor had met Vincent, of course, but didn't feel he knew him well enough to attend his wedding. And besides, he had a date.

Being grounded for the last three weeks had meant he'd been unable to pursue Ashleigh. He hadn't even been able to stay after school to watch her track workouts. But, thanks to Don, Ashleigh was coming over tonight.

Connor knew Ranger wouldn't approve of him having Ashleigh over, but Ranger hadn't specifically said he couldn't have friends over; he'd just said he couldn't leave the house without permission. Well, he wasn't going to leave the house. But he did intend to have some fun while he was confined to the house. After all, there was nothing said about solitary confinement.

He grabbed a bag of chips and some soft drinks from the kitchen and carried them into the front living room. There was a surround sound system in that room and Connor had programmed in his favorite playlist for the evening. He didn't know what to expect with Ashleigh, but he was prepared. He tapped his fingers on his front jeans pocket, over the small foil packet he'd slipped in a few minutes ago, just after he'd gargled with Julie's mint-flavored mouthwash. He checked his watch. Just one last thing to do.

He stood in front of the front door alarm panel and opened it. With a deep breath, he punched in the code to open the gates, and then he switched the camera system off as well as the alarm. He immediately pulled out his phone and called Hal.

"Hey, Hal," Connor began, "It's Connor. Just called to let you know that the storm's knocked out all power to the house. It'll probably come back on in a little while, but I didn't want you to worry if you noticed that something was off with the alarm system."

"What about the backup?" Hal asked. "Ranger has a backup generator, so you should still have power."

"Yeah, but Louis was working on it earlier today and didn't hook it back up before he left. I think you and I are the only ones not at the wedding." He chuckled. "Hey, don't worry about the alarm at the house. I'm fine here, and Ranger and Louis will have everything back in working order when they get home."

"Okay, Connor," Hal said, "but if you have any problems, call me. Promise?"

"Sure, Hal." Connor disconnected the call and grinned widely. Operation Ashleigh was a go!

He saw headlights flash by the front bay window and opened the front door. Ashleigh's sporty little Mazda Miata was coming up the drive. Connor couldn't wipe the grin off his face as Ashleigh swung her long bare legs out of the red convertible. She was wearing a red mini dress with matching heels. She looked sexy as hell.

"Wow! This is a dope place," Ashleigh gushed. "Your dad must be loaded."

Connor shrugged. Tonight, he wanted to forget his day-to-day life, with no mention of Ranger. All he said was, "Wait'll you see the inside." Taking her hand, he led her into the house.

As they settled on the couch, Connor offered her one of the cans of soda. She countered with, "How 'bout a glass of wine instead?"

Connor turned his head so she couldn't see him frowning, and then he remembered the half-empty bottle of white wine Stephanie had in the fridge. He set the soda can on the coffee table and stood. "Anything for you. A glass of wine, coming up."

While he was gone, Ashleigh pulled her phone out of her purse. It only took her a minute or so to send a group text. Her phone was back in her purse by the time Connor returned with two glasses of chilled wine.

"So, come here often?" Connor joked, as he took a small sip of wine. Grimacing at the taste, he set the glass on the coffee table alongside the unopened sodas.

Ashleigh grinned. "Funny man, huh." She gulped down half the wine in her glass. "Don said you were new to Jersey. How do you like it?"

He kept eye contact with her as he lifted his arm and let it rest along the back of the couch. "I'm liking it better and better." He dropped his hand to her shoulder. "I like you." He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers.

She giggled and murmured, "Flatterer." Another gulp of wine and her glass was empty. Leaning forward, she set her glass next to his and when she sat back, she leaned into him, her face tilted up. He pulled her closer and kissed her full on the mouth. There wasn't a sound made for the next several minutes, or at least until the heavy breathing started. But that stopped when the sound of multiple cars driving up to the house reached Connor's ears.

Connor jumped up and ran to the front door. Before he could open it, the doorbell rang. He swung the door open to reveal his friend Don and two other guys. All were carrying 24-packs of beer. Coming up behind them were a bunch of kids Connor recognized as friends of Ashleigh's. They were carrying more beer and bags of snacks.

"What are you doing here?" Connor exclaimed, frowning as more kids climbed out of the increasing line of cars that now lined the driveway. Connor was cursing himself for not manually closing the gate after Ashleigh had arrived.

Don pushed past Connor saying, "Hope you're ready to party, dude, 'cause we've already started." The rest of the group rushed in to the house after Don.

"Wait, guys!" Connor yelled after them. "STOP!" He tried to close the door, but more kids filed in, most carrying more beer. By the time he made his way back to the living room, the place was filled with kids. The music had been turned to deafening and the couch and chairs had been shoved back against the wall. Kids were dancing, drinking, eating and making out. Connor stood in the entryway, his mouth hanging open.

Ashleigh came up to him, smiling, a beer in her hand. "This is great, Connor," she crooned, letting her lips nuzzle his neck. "Thanks for letting the party move here. They got run out of Marcy's." She slipped her free hand up his chest and then caressed his neck, pulling his head down for a deep kiss, complete with tongue.

When the kiss stopped, Connor looked around the noisy room. Everyone was having a good time and behaving themselves, for the most part. The music was a little loud, but the kids were either dancing or standing around in small groups, drinking beer and talking. And Ashleigh was still pressed up against him, her fingers running across his abdomen. She pushed him down into one of the overstuffed chairs and tumbled into his lap. He forgot about everything else.

...

Hal hated doing this, he really did, but he knew he had to do it if he wanted to keep his job. He hit speed dial and waited. He didn't have to wait long. "Boss, there's a situation at your house..."

...

Ranger pulled up to his house and his knuckles turned white as he clenched the steering wheel of the Cayenne. The gate was wide open and cars were parked not only along the driveway up to the house, but they lined both sides of the road. He could hear the music blaring out into the street. A softly uttered, "Dammit" came from Ranger's compressed lips.

"Oh my god," Julie exclaimed from the back seat. "How many people are in there?" No one answered her.

"Ranger," Stephanie laid a hand on his arm, "calm down. It's just a little party."

Ranger cut his eyes to his wife. "You call this a _little_ party? I call it ... punishable by death." He found a spot to park along the street and turned to Stephanie. "You and Julie stay in the car. Do you hear me? Cars are going to come flying out of there in a few minutes and it's going to get dangerous. Stay. In. The. Car." He stared at her until she nodded acquiescence.

As he stormed up the driveway, the music got louder and louder. Cars had been driven off the paved area onto the grass and flowerbeds. The front door was open. Before he stepped inside, he took a deep breath. It didn't calm him down.

It was worse than he expected. Kids were everywhere and so was the trash. Dozens and dozens of beer cans and bottles. Innumerable empty bags of chips and containers of dip. A scattering of empty fifths of vodka. And that was just in the foyer.

When Ranger reached the living room, which seemed to be the hub of most activity, his blood pressure skyrocketed. Piles of trash were scattered throughout the room. Several holes in the walls were visible. A decorative mirror had been shattered and had rained down on the loveseat below. Ranger shook his head when he saw that the cushions had been turned over to make the loveseat still usable. Books had been pulled from shelves and lay ruined and scattered across the floor. Two lamps had been knocked over and kicked to the side. There were shards of pottery from several vases now heaped in corners. Ranger's blood pressure spiked when he recognized some of the broken pieces had come from a Murano glass vase given by his mother to Stephanie as a housewarming present.

He scanned the crowd, but didn't see Connor. Some of the kids had fled as soon as they saw him, but most of the crowd seemed oblivious: dancing, drinking or making out. He strode over to the sound system and turned it off. The silence was deafening once the chest-pounding reverberations subsided. Kids stopped whatever they were doing and looked around. It didn't take long for them to spot Ranger. Pandemonium ensued as they pushed and shoved, each of them trying to be the first one out the door. Ranger still hadn't said a word.

With the living room cleared out, he moved through the other rooms. Sometimes he had to give a jerk of his head, other times he had to tap the shoulders of couples whose bodies were tightly entwined. But all of the teens quickly fled once they looked at Ranger's face. He had been through all the downstairs rooms and the back patio, and he still hadn't found Connor. And his blood pressure still hadn't come down. In fact, the quieter he got, the angrier he became. By the time he'd climbed the stairs and reached Connor's bedroom, he'd reached his limit. His patience was completely depleted.

As he reached for the door handle, he heard his name. Stephanie was at the top of the stairs. He flung open the door.

Connor was in his bed. He wasn't alone. Lying half under him was a slim blonde girl. Her eyes were wide open. So was her mouth. Like a deer caught in the headlights. Connor slid off of her and stared at Ranger.

Ranger looked at the two of them. He tried to speak, several times, but couldn't. Finally, he turned and walked out of the room. As he passed Stephanie, he uttered, "I can't do this. I have to get out of here. I have to leave or ... or else I'll kill him."

Stephanie heard the front door slam and then the house was deadly quiet.


	32. Chapter 32

**CHAPTER 32**

 **A Few Hours Later**

"Oh! Good Lord in Heaven!" Stephanie twirled to see Ella and Louis in the foyer.

"My thoughts exactly," she told Ella.

"What happened?" the housekeeper asked as she walked into the room and bent to begin picking up trash.

"Connor had a party," Stephanie told her. "It took a bit to get the details, but he was planning on having a date come over, and she brought some of her friends. Things sort of spun out of control."

"Go get the young man," Ella said with surprising forcefulness. "He needs to help clean."

"No can do," Stephanie said with a sigh. She headed for the leather armchair, Ranger's favorite, which was miraculously untouched. She flopped down and stared across the room at Ella and the still unmoving Louis. "I sent Connor to stay with his uncle Chase for a couple of days. When we came home and found this, I saw something in Ranger's eyes. He was about to lose complete control and he left before it could happen. He just walked out. It's been a couple of hours and I haven't heard from him. I thought I'd better put some space between him and Connor. Connor seemed to think it was a good idea, too."

"And Julie?" Ella asked.

"She's in her room," Stephanie said. "She didn't see it, but Ranger and I found Connor in his bed with a girl. That's when Ranger left and the girl jumped from the bed and only got about half of her clothes on before she took off running. Julie met her in the hallway, and she's a smart girl. She knew exactly what her brother had been doing. I didn't even have to ask her to leave so I could talk with Connor. She went on her own."

"You need to go talk with her."

"I do, and I will, but this place needs ..." Stephanie shrugged. The room was destroyed. She didn't know where to begin. But she knew it had to be taken care of and soon. When Ranger came back it would set him off all over again. She wasn't used to an out of control Ranger. She used to get frustrated with his calm in the face of chaos. Now she longed for it. It had only been a moment when emotion had clouded his face, but she recognized the emotions. Anger, overwhelming anger, and hurt. Connor had broken his trust and there had been a moment of hurt, but that had been replaced with a scary, scary, smoldering heat. When Ranger had said, "I have to leave or ... or else I'll kill him," Stephanie had known he'd been telling the truth.

"I'll get changed," Ella said, looking down at the dress and heels she'd worn to Vincent's wedding. "Then I'll get started on this. You need to talk with Julie, and make sure she's okay."

"I will talk to Julie, but I'll do this," she said to Ella, waving her hand to indicate the mess that once was her living room. "It's not your job."

"It's Connor's job," Louis said. Both women looked at him in surprise. "Connor needs to be responsible for cleaning up the trash and repairing the damage. If he doesn't know how to fix the holes in the wall, I will help him. But he needs to do this."

"But he's not here," Stephanie said.

"He's not that far away. He can stay with his uncle, but he should come tomorrow and every day until the repairs are done. I will call him."

Louis was right, she realized, so she nodded her head in acquiescence. "I wanted to get things cleaned up for Ranger," she told him. "I thought it would be better when he comes back if things looked normal."

Louis scanned the room. "The trash will clean up easily. The holes in the wall can be repaired. Parts of the room will have to be repainted after the repairs. The carpet might need to be replaced, as I see cigarette burn marks. The love seat cushions will have to be recovered. The upholstery is shredded. This won't be an overnight repair."

"You're right," Ella told her husband. "Tomorrow, you and Connor can work on the wall repairs, the painting and replanting the flower beds that were torn up outside. Stephanie and I will tackle the rest. Connor needs to see that even though what he's done is terribly wrong, he has a family that supports him. He has to learn that his actions have consequences, but he can't be alienated over this. He's too ready to push people away as it is."

Louis nodded in agreement with Ella. "We'll say goodnight now, but we'll see you early in the morning," Louis said, and the couple left quietly out the front door. Stephanie stayed where she was in the armchair. What had just happened? She'd been at a loss at what to do first and Ella and Louis had come in and given her focus. She no longer felt so alone, which was great, but shouldn't her husband's presence be the reason she didn't feel alone? She was still so angry at him for leaving her to deal with all of this, but she was also becoming a little worried about Ranger. It wasn't like him to avoid responsibility. Thank God for Ella and Louis, but where was Ranger?

Stephanie went upstairs to Julie's room and knocked on the door. There was no response. She opened the door and called, "Julie?" softly. Still, there was no response. Stephanie kept the door open wide enough to let a little light in and made her way to the bed. There was a lump under the covers that might be Julie, but after Connor's adventure she wasn't taking any chances. She pulled back the covers slightly to see Julie fast asleep. She wondered if the girl was truly asleep or if she was just a really good fake sleeper. Either way it didn't matter. Julie didn't seem to want conversation. Stephanie made her way from the room quietly.

An hour later, she was lying in bed, her hand stretched out to slide back and forth against the empty space next to her. Ranger hadn't said he wasn't coming back tonight, but he hadn't said he was. She only thought for a moment before she picked up her cell phone and punched in Tank's number. He'd know, she felt sure, just where Ranger was. They were probably together. And if they weren't and she woke him up, well, that was a chance she was willing to take.

"Yo." The greeting was his standard one. Neither he nor Ranger wasted much time with pleasantries. There were odd noises in the background. She remained silent and tried to figure out where he was. "Stephanie?" he said when she didn't reply to his greeting. "You there? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I was wondering where you were. What am I hearing?"

"I'm in the ER waiting room at Helene Fuld."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Ranger?"

"No. Hal."

"Where's Ranger?" she asked.

"I dunno. Until right now I thought he was probably at home with you." That gave her pause for consideration. Ranger hadn't gone to Tank, hadn't informed Tank of his plans. Hopefully, that meant he'd be back home soon, and they'd get this mess straightened out. Her concern then turned to Hal.

"What's happened to Hal?"

"We went a few rounds tonight, and he got bunged up. He's getting stitches in his hand."

"You injured him! Was that punishment for what happened?"

"Shit, no, I didn't injure him. I was trying to save him. He was hell bent on beating himself up. He was hitting a body bag so hard I thought he was going to pop a hernia, so I stepped into the ring to give him a live target to aim at. He overbalanced and fell and his hand grazed a metal stool sitting outside the ring. He ripped the crap out of it. It's gonna need twenty or thirty stitches. They just took him back."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad it's not something more serious."

"You mean you're glad I didn't beat him within an inch of his life?" Tank asked.

"Uh, yeah."

"That's not my job. Ranger'll do that."

"I thought you said you hadn't talked to Ranger," she said.

"I haven't, but I know what happened. I just got the whole story from Hal."

"What did happen?" Stephanie wanted to know. She knew the story from her end, but figured there was probably a lot she was missing.

"Earlier tonight, Connor turned off the alarm and called Hal to tell him there'd been a complete power failure," Tank said. "Hal told him there was a generator back-up but Connor told him the generator wasn't working as Louis had been doing repairs on it. Hal knew that was complete BS. Louis wouldn't be the one to work on the generator for one thing, and for another, Hal still had eyes on the place, even though Connor thought he'd turned everything off."

"How is that?" Stephanie asked.

"When the main system goes down, a secondary one takes over that operates completely on battery. And the secondary one goes places the regular one doesn't, like …" Tank stopped and she knew he was wondering if he was giving away too much information.

"This is news to me, Tank, but I'm his wife. If you can't trust me to keep his secrets who can you trust?" She tried to keep her tone even, not to let him hear that her temper was starting to sizzle. Yet another important fact of life in the Bat Cave that had been kept from her. Not only was she tracked differently, in her car, Ranger had eyes in the private areas of their home. And he hadn't thought to tell _his little woman_. She was grinding her teeth. If this kept up she was going to need a leather strap to chew on.

"The secondary system isn't used unless the primary system goes down," Tank continued, "which it never does. It's got cameras in places the other one doesn't, because in the event of a home invasion, it would be important to see all areas of the house."

"So, if it's a slow night in the monitor room, Hal, or Vince, or—Lester can turn on the secondary system and find out if Ranger cuffs me to the bed, if I like the top, if I've shaved my legs recently!" She was screaming, she realized.

"For fucksake, Stephanie. No. The secondary only goes on when the first is compromised. And no one at RangeMan would dare to…"

"Well Hal apparently did."

"Because the primary system was compromised," Tank said. "Connor shut it off. Hal didn't out him right away because he wanted to see what Connor was up to. When he saw the girl arrive, he decided to let things go. He likes Connor and he figured having a girl over wasn't so bad. When the other cars started coming he called Ranger … and you know the rest of the story."

"Do I ever. Let's get back to this security system. How many other things are wired for sight and sound around here that I know nothing about."

"Nothing."

"Are you certain? Why does the whole of RangeMan's monitoring staff know more about my personal monitoring than I do?"

"That's a question you'll have to ask your husband."

"I don't fucking know where he is!"

"I don't fucking know either!" he responded. She hung up on him.

…..

Talk about being oblivious to one's surroundings, Ranger was chagrinned to find himself in Newark. Why had he come here? Long forgotten memories of his teen years flashed through his head increasing his level of anger. He clamped down tightly on those memories as they only fueled his already out of control fury.

As he drove through the once-familiar streets of his old hometown, he considered his options. He could return home... NO! He was still too angry, too out of control. He could stop by his parents' home. Again, too angry. Too angry to even talk to his parents. In fact, just the thought of talking to his parents made him even angrier. Something nudged at him with that thought, but he pushed it aside.

He could keep driving. Thinking it over, that had little appeal. Too many towns, too many distractions. He just wanted to get away. Go someplace he could think. His thumbs drummed on the steering wheel. With a decisiveness that felt good, he turned the Cayenne around and headed southeast. He saw the highway signs: short-term or long term? He chose long term parking. He knew what he needed, and Georgia had what he needed. He hoped there was a red-eye available tonight.


	33. Chapter 33

**Authors Note: Several times during the posting of this story we have left readers dangling (unintentionally) with a nasty cliffhanger. The weekend can seem sooo long! It was going to happen again, and so we've decided to post today and tomorrow, hopefully eliminating that problem!**

 **CHAPTER 33**

 **The Next Day**

Ella handed Stephanie a card. "This is the name of the decorator that Ranger used when he was preparing this place to show you. She can probably help you replace the mirror, and the Murano glass vase with something similar."

"Thanks, Ella. I'll call her," Stephanie said.

"This is disgusting!" Julie said. "Ella, I need gloves. I think someone threw up in this planter!" Ella hurried to the kitchen to return with a pair of vinyl gloves for Julie.

"I don't see why I have to do this. I'm not the one who screwed up big time!"

"No, that'd be me," Connor said. He walked into the room wearing a pair of faded Levi's and a black Harley Davidson t-shirt. It looked new and she guessed it was a loan or a gift from Chase. Connor probably hadn't packed well before he'd left last evening.

"Asshole!" Julie said. She turned and walked past Ella who was holding out gloves to her. The back door slammed.

Connor took a long studied look around the foyer and living room, and his face fell. He knew it'd be bad, but after seeing it in the light of day he hadn't realized the full extent of the damage. It was a humbling experience.

Connor made eye contact with Stephanie and he blushed. "I'm sorry, Stephanie." His words were simple and to the point and she saw that he meant them. He reminded her so much of Ranger that her heart hurt. "Could I talk to you in private?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure. Let's take a walk outside." They left the house and walked slowly down the drive. "Are you doing okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine. I'm really, really, sorry. I didn't ask if Ashleigh could come over, because I knew Ranger would say no. I turned off the cameras and I thought no one would ever find out, but then all those other kids just showed up. I don't even know most of them. Ashleigh and I were, uh…" he hesitated as if searching for the right words.

"Ashleigh and you were preoccupied, and you didn't realize how out of control things had gotten," Stephanie suggested.

"Yeah, and you guys came home early and everything went FUBAR."

"We didn't come home early by accident," Stephanie told him. "Hal called when he saw all the cars coming through the gate. You only thought you shut the security system down. RangeMan always has a back-up that no one knows about." Stephanie paused and let what she'd just told him sink in.

"So, Hal knew?"

"Hal knew, and he covered for you as long as he could. Now, Hal is in danger of losing his job."

Connor looked incredulous. "Ranger is going to fire him?"

"I don't know. Ranger expects complete loyalty from his men. They follow all the rules, and yet, last night Hal broke, well, at least bent a rule. And he did it because according to Tank, Hal likes you. He wanted to give you a break. There will be consequences, beyond what you might expect."

"I really screwed this up!" Connor exclaimed.

"Yes, you did," Stephanie told him. "I know it wasn't on purpose, and I know what it's like when a situation goes spiraling out of control, believe me, I know. But, like I said, actions have consequences. You can help repair the damage. That's the easy part. The relationship damage will be much harder to fix."

"You mean like, with the kid?" he asked.

"Yes. With your sister who seems to be very angry with you. And with your father."

"Ranger is not my father!" he spat out.

Stephanie twirled to face him. They'd made it to the gate and they were on their way back toward the front of the house. She reached out and took hold of his t-shirt, crumpling the orange and white logo and pulled him toward her.

"You know what, Connor? I'm getting pretty tired of your attitude. He _is_ your father, despite the fact you seem not to want him to be, and he wants to help you," she stated, her face mere inches from his.

"A little late with his concern, don't you think? I had a dad. I don't need another one." He pulled out of Stephanie's grasp and started walking again. She matched his steps.

"You need Ranger, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not," she said. "Yes, you had a dad, and from what I hear he was a great guy. I'm glad you had a father who took such good care of you. Yeah, Ranger wasn't the guy that took you to Little League. He wasn't the guy that was there for you when you were sick, when you needed help with your homework. No, he wasn't that guy. And you know the reason why. He's the guy who found out only months ago that you even existed. And since he found out, he's been trying to do what's right for you." She reached out and lightly gripped his arm. "He wants a relationship with you, or at least, he did. Half your DNA comes from him. Don't you want to know about that part of your heritage?"

"Whatever," Connor said, sulking.

"Did you know I'm the one who figured it out?" she asked him. "I'm the one who decided he had the right to know who you were. If I hadn't told him about you, he'd have never known of your existence, or you of his. He'd already decided there was no sense in going to see your mom. They were very young when they last knew one another. She was seventeen, and he was only fifteen." She let that fact sink in. "He had no idea he was the father of Corrine's son. I saw you and I knew immediately that he was your father. You look just like him. You're irrationally pissed off at Ranger for coming into your life so late. You should be pissed off at me. It's my fault you two even know of one another's existence."

Connor shook his head. "It's not your fault." He blew out a breath. "It's nobody's fault." He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and stared at the pavement. Steph waited for him to process what she'd said. Connor finally looked up. "I need to apologize to him, for all of this." He waved his hand at the tire tracks in the flowerbeds and lawn. "When will he be back?"

"I don't know," Stephanie said. "I haven't seen or heard from him since he left last evening. I'm sure you'll get your chance, but it may be awhile. It might take some time for him to cool off. I've never seen him that angry before." They'd stopped walking again and now they were standing near the side of the house. Stephanie caught a glimpse of movement near the back and she saw Julie pulling a lounge chair from the pool deck into a patch of sunlight. The girl flopped down on the chair and crossed her arms against her chest.

"There's someone else you might want to apologize to," Stephanie said. "I think she feels like you betrayed her, somehow."

"I guess I should talk to her." He ran his hands through his hair and again she was reminded of Ranger. "Then I'll be back in to finish the cleanup. Louis and I are going to fix the holes in the wall." He reached out a hand to her and then dropped it as if he wasn't sure. She stepped forward and wrapped him in a big hug.

"It'll get better, Connor," she said with a small smile. It couldn't get worse.

…..

"Hey," Connor said.

"Hey," Julie returned.

"How was the wedding?" he asked.

Julie sat up from the lounger and stared at her half-brother standing at the foot of the chair. Her eyes had widened at his question. "The wedding! You're asking about the wedding? If you'd gone to the wedding I'd still have a father."

"What are you talking about?" Connor asked, frowning. He sat on the foot of the lounger and waited for her answer.

"What I'm talking about is that you have completely screwed up my life!"

He grimaced. "I know it was a stupid thing to do, letting those kids tear up the house, but I can't see how that could ruin your life. You're being a little melodramatic."

"I'm not! Before you came I was his only child. You come along and once again everything _I_ want has to take second place. Everything is about the new son!"

"Wait!" Connor said, stopping her tirade with his astonished exclamation. "Are you saying Ranger gives me preferential treatment? That's crazy. He hates my guts."

"Oh yeah," she said. "He hates you so much he's taken over your martial arts training himself. Everyone at RangeMan knows he's the best." Her eyes narrowed. "If you plan on taking over RangeMan someday, think again. I'm going to have that job and I'm not going to let you beat me out of it."

"Calm down, Julie. RangeMan is all yours. I don't want it. I just want to put in my time until I'm eighteen and then I'm outta here."

"Great," she said. "It can't happen fast enough for me. I heard Ranger say he had to leave or else he'd kill you. He went right by me on his way out and he didn't even see me." She paused before snapping out, "If I were you, I'd leave before he comes back."

"I'd think you'd want me to stay," Connor said. "I mean, if he's really going to kill me, that would solve your problem, right?"

Julie looked embarrassed and she blushed a little. "I guess I don't really want you dead. I'm just pissed because ever since you came there has been … drama! I left my mother and my friends to get away from the drama of dealing with my stepfather and my brother and sister—and then I come up here and I get another brother."

As Connor listened to his sister complain, he realized just how upset she was, and not just about the house being trashed. "That's not my story," he said. "You're my only sibling. For the first seventeen years of my life I was an only child. You need to give me a break. I'm new to this brother thing."

"Okay, I'll give you a clue," Julie said, swinging her legs to the ground. "Quit being mad at Ranger. He's a good dad. He's taken care of me, always. Even after Ron adopted me, Ranger still came to visit, and he helped my family. He'd... he'd give up his life for me. Why do you hate him anyway?"

Connor was quiet for a while. "I don't hate him," he said at last. "I hate the circumstances that brought me to him. It's kind of hard to separate the two sometimes."

"You should try."

"That's just about what Stephanie told me. I guess I'm surrounded by some smart women."

"Duh!"

"Listen, Julie, I'm sorry about last night. I thought Ranger wouldn't let me have Ashleigh come over and I really wanted to see her. I don't know how all those kids showed up." He ran his hands through his hair. "It's all screwed up now. I'm sorry I got Ranger so upset that he left, but he'll be back. And I'll stay out of his way. Once I'm eighteen, I'm outta here and I won't mess up your life anymore."

"You mean when you leave I'll never see you again?" she asked.

He hesitated. "I, I don't know. Would you want to see me?"

"Maybe."

He grinned. "I'm thinking of going to college after I graduate. I'll have you come and spend the weekend sometime."

"Oh yeah," she said, returning his grin. "I can see Ranger letting that happen. Not!"

"Well, you never know, and if he doesn't like it we'll just let him think you're visiting your mom."

"You're a slow learner, obviously," she said. "You can't put anything over on Ranger. He's Batman, at least that's what Stephanie says."

"Yeah, maybe trying to put one over on him isn't such a good idea. You give good advice. I guess it's not so bad having a sister." He stood from the lounger and held out his hand to pull her up. "C'mon. Let's go clean up my mess."

"All right, but I'm not touching that vomit in the planter!"

Stephanie stood and watched as Connor casually dropped an arm across Julie's shoulder. The resemblance was striking. The Mañoso gene dominated both their appearances. Connor was a walking time bomb of potential. So much like the father he tried to deny. He was smart, handsome and charismatic... and young. The youth would give way to maturity eventually, and she hoped he stayed in their lives so they could see what he would become.

"We're ready to get down to work," Connor announced as he and Julie walked into the room.

"Good," Stephanie said. "I was just getting ready to take a break and call the decorator." She held the card that Ella had given her earlier in her hand. "I'll be back down shortly." She turned and walked out of the room and up the stairs to their bedroom. She thumbed through her contacts and dialed Tank. She hadn't lied when she said she would call the decorator before she went back down, but first things first.

"I was just getting ready to call you," Tank said by way of greeting. "You coming in today? You do remember you have a client meeting this afternoon?"

Shit! She hadn't remembered. She thumbed through the calendar on her phone. "Yes, of course I remember. Panik's Fine Furniture. At 4:00 p.m. I'll be there. I'm spending the morning trying to put my household back in order."

"Okay, great." Tank said. "That's all I needed to know."

"Wait!" she said. "Don't hang up. I called you, remember?"

He sighed. "I remember. I don't know where he is."

"Really?"

"Really. I could make an educated guess. I had an email from him this morning giving me some staffing instructions."

"Oh, great. He hasn't abandoned his business. Just his family. His wife."

"Give him some time. He'll come around," Tank said.

"I'm worried about him, and pissed off at him in equal parts," she said. "He's always been so controlled. Now, he's completely out of control when it comes to Connor."

"I've known Ranger a long time. Longer than you've known him," Tank said. "And quit getting your bristles up. I'm not saying I'm more important to him than you. I'm just saying I knew him at a time when he had no control. I saw him learn to tame his emotions, his reactions. To keep everything locked down. That's probably what he's doing right now. Re-centering himself. Give him time to do it. He'll come back, and he'll be fine."

"Well, that's just peachy," she ranted. "Ranger will come back and be large and in charge after I've cleaned up the mess he left behind. That doesn't work for me. If he wants to get centered there are other ways to do it."

"Such as?"

"Dr. Fincher. He encouraged me to go see her, and I have been seeing her. Maybe it's time for him to go."

"Maybe," Tank said. "I didn't lie when I said I don't know where he is, but I do know how to get ahold of him. If you really need him. Otherwise I'd let him have some time to himself."

"I'll do that," she said. "And even when he comes back I'll make sure he has some alone time." She blew out a breath. "Thanks for the info, Tank. See you this afternoon." She disconnected and dialed the number on the business card Ella had given her. She had work to do.


	34. Chapter 34

**CHAPTER 34**

 **Present Day Georgia**

The four-man fire team came into sight as they crested the hill. Each soldier was loaded down with a backpack and a weapon. They were on alert, ready for anything, shifting their vision from side to side as they cleared the field. They were in wedge formation at first, but quickly moved to an echelon formation as a second fire team appeared at the top of the hill. The now eight-man squad ended up in a skirmishers formation as they ran across the field, not stopping until they were directly in front of the bleachers. The teams then began practicing their weapons demonstrations.

In a few days, they would be performing the same demonstrations before a packed crowd when the latest group of Ft. Benning Army recruits graduated from Infantry School. But for now, Ranger was the only person sitting in the bleachers across from the parade ground, watching the soldiers practice.

He'd arrived on the Army base several hours ago, checking in at the front gate. Both the flight from Newark and the drive from Atlanta had been a blur. He'd been unable to focus or get in his zone, as Stephanie called it. That seemed to be the case lately. Ever since he'd learned that he had a son.

Why now? Why was all this happening now? He shook his head. He thought when Stephanie finally agreed to marry him that his life would smooth out. He'd been looking forward to it. But since they'd gotten married, his life had been in turmoil and it had nothing to do with Stephanie. In fact, she was the stabilizing factor in his life now, instead of the other way around. Who would have thought? he mused.

Maybe he shouldn't have married Stephanie. She'd been expecting their married life to be just the two of them. She didn't deserve this instant and chaotic family she now found herself in. And he'd left her to deal with his two rebellious kids, because he couldn't contain his temper. He knew leaving wasn't the answer, but he also knew he couldn't have stayed. Not with his emotions on self-destruct. Not knowing his tendency for violent reactions when angered. He'd thought about calling her, but he had no idea what to say to her. He needed some answers before he saw her again. He was supposed to be the strong one, the one in control, the one who fixed things, the one who made everything better. Instead...

He dropped his face in his hands, scrubbing his fingers across his forehead and cheeks. His life hadn't been this chaotic since he was in his teens. And he didn't know why. That was the kicker. He was losing it and he didn't know why. He was beginning to wonder if having an angry rebellious son drop into his life at this point was some form of payback, some karmic retribution for the things he'd done, as a teen himself, as a soldier and then as a mercenary. He hadn't lived an exemplary life, and now all his sins seemed to have come home to roost in the form of himself reincarnated. Connor! Just the thought of his son sent his blood pressure spiking. Why?

Why did the thought of Connor send him into a tailspin? Pictures of his house filled with drunken dancing teenagers, trash everywhere and holes punched in walls flashed through his head. That definitely got him mad. And if he was honest with himself, he was also hurt. That his son could treat him, and his home, so disrespectfully, as if he was thumbing his nose at him or flipping him the bird in a rudely tangible way. But Ranger knew his anger was rooted in more than just Connor's rudeness.

He'd been angry from the very beginning, that first day he'd met Connor at the hospital. So what was making him so angry? As he sat still in the open bleachers, a small bird flew up on the bench next to him and suddenly, it dawned on him.

He was angry at... Wren! At Corrine or René, or whatever she'd chosen to call herself. She'd not only kept him from knowing his own son, she'd also kept his son from knowing him, even knowing about him. Ranger leaned back, his elbows on the bleacher step behind him. He inhaled deeply and let it out on a long exhale.

How much of both of his and Connor's anger was really about Corrine, but directed toward each other? Because how can you be angry at a dead woman? Neither of them could yell at her or even ask the questions they desperately needed answers to. But these facts didn't erase their anger. And the most obvious solution to resolve that anger—confronting Corrine—was no longer available to them. Yes, he was angry with Corrine, but there was still something else underlying that.

He could feel his blood pressure rising again, so he got up and jogged down the bleacher steps. When he got to the bottom, he kept on going, jogging around the side and into the woods beyond. He needed to let off excess energy. Ft. Benning was a large base with most of it in forested land, and there were dirt roads and trails winding through the woods.

Ranger made use of those trails, running at top speed several miles before he slowed down to a jog. About a mile later, he spotted some soldiers negotiating one of the many obstacle courses used to train the troops. It brought back memories of his days in basic training and Ranger School. He stopped to watch, listening to the drill sergeant "encouraging" his men. He watched as they ran and leapt over hurdles, crawled through mud pits and climbed over tall wooden barriers, each trying to outdo the other.

Ranger grinned to himself, remembering his own days as a recruit. But he had never been that young, had he? Yeah, those were the good old days. It was why he'd come back here, trying to bring to the forefront some good memories to blot out his current anger. This was the time and the place where he'd been the happiest. Or was it?

Buried amongst the happy memories, he started to remember other times, times he'd let his temper get the best of him, like it was now. He'd been young and volatile, quick to rage at the slightest thing. The Army had eventually taught him patience and control, but not before he'd been raked over the coals, time and time again by his drill sergeant.

A slow smile crept across his face. He remembered mouthing off to his drill sergeant, and how well that had gone over. Learning how to control his anger hadn't come easy, or fast. He, and his raging fury, were the reason his platoon had done many a night march, and many extra turns at the obstacle course. Looking back, he couldn't believe how long it had taken him to get it through his thick skull. He shook his head and thanked his lucky stars for his drill sergeant. Sergeant Carter was one of the reasons he'd learned to control his emotions, and had been so successful as an Army Ranger. He wondered if he had drawn another DS, would he have been as successful. Hell, another DS might have dropped him from the service altogether, declaring him unfit.

And then there was Tank. He had also been a godsend. Tank was always there for him, calming him down, or sparring with him when he needed to release his pent-up frustration and energy. And that was just during training. The times Tank had saved him from himself once they'd found themselves in combat were too numerous to mention.

One other person had had a major impact on him learning to rein in his anger. Grace Galloway. He had to give her credit for polishing his rough edges. He'd also found it easier to control his temper when he was around her, knowing there would be opportunity to release all that energy, in a most pleasurable way. He'd come a long way since those early days—until recently.

He looked back over at the raw recruits struggling over the obstacles in front of them. They'd be dog-tired tonight. He gave a silent chuckle. Maybe that's why he'd been able to control his anger—Sergeant Carter had simply exhausted him every day. He'd been too tired to be angry.

He closed his eyes and memories came flooding in, of his not so good days during training. Damn! Why had it taken him so long to get a handle on his anger back then? And why was he so angry now? Where was his legendary control?

Suddenly, the quiet of the forest was shattered by an explosion, immediately followed by a barrage of gunfire. Startled, a jolt of fear and adrenaline shot through Ranger. He saw smoke and frenzied activity on the obstacle course and knew, intellectually, that it was just a part of the recruit training, but his body was reacting as if he were directly under fire. It took all of his legendary control not to bolt and run screaming through the woods. Sweat poured off him and his breathing was shallow and rapid. He reached out and grabbed a tree trunk to steady himself and get his fear under control. Dear God, what was happening to him?

A hand clamped down on his shoulder. Ranger spun around, his body tense, his fists ready to lash out, ready to attack. The man standing before him had taken a step back and was staring intently at Ranger.

"Sergeant Carter!" Ranger exclaimed. The tension in his body dropped a notch and then he looked at the man's uniform. "Sergeant _Major_ Carter. What are you doing here?"

The man in front of him responded, "I work here. What's your excuse, Mañoso?"

Ranger dragged his fingers through his damp hair. "I... uh..." He shook his head as if trying to clear the confusion from his brain. He held out his hand. "It's... good to see you."

As Sergeant Major Carter shook Ranger's hand, he said, "I heard you were on base. You looking to re-up?"

"Not in this lifetime. One go-around with you was enough." The corner of Ranger's mouth twitched.

"It's been a while. Are you here on business?" Carter probed, still intently studying his former trainee.

"No. It's a personal trip." Ranger turned his head away and felt his body tense up again. The two men started walking down the forested path, side by side. They'd gone several hundred yards before Ranger spoke again.

"I saw the fire team demonstrations. I like the new weapons. An upgrade from my time," Ranger said. "Must be a graduation ceremony coming up."

"They come, they go," Carter replied, laconically.

"I might stay around for this one," Ranger told him.

"Graduation isn't for a couple of days." Carter paused and then asked, "You avoiding something?"

That insightful comment took Ranger aback. It took him a moment, but he responded, "Myself." He surprised himself with his answer.

"You used to use anger to avoid dealing with yourself. What's it this time?"

"You don't forget anything, do you, Sarge?"

"That's Sergeant Major," Carter corrected him. "And no, I don't. But you seem to have."

"Why do you say that?"

"You've lost control, again."

Ranger was silent for a while as they continued to walk. "Maybe that's why I came back," he finally said.

"Need me to give you a refresher course?"

Ranger chuckled. "I'm not going through Basic again."

"I don't think I could handle another fourteen weeks with you again," Carter replied, not chuckling. "What set you off?"

There was another long pause. Talking about his problems didn't come naturally to Ranger, but there was a reason he'd come back to Georgia. Maybe this was it. "I just recently found out I have a son. A teenaged son. He's now living with me. And with my wife and teenaged daughter. It's ... not going smoothly."

This time it was Carter who chuckled. "Life with teenaged boys never goes smoothly. What do you think Basic is all about? Turning boys into men. That's been my life for the last thirty years." He glanced over at Ranger. "You were one of the hardest to crack. So damn angry. But it was all worth it. I followed your career as a Ranger. You made me proud."

Normally, Ranger let comments like that slide off his back, but this one, from this man, touched him deeply. "That means a lot to me. Thank you, Sergeant Major Carter."

Carter gave a curt nod of his head. "Now, about this son of yours. You're losing your temper with him, aren't you?"

"How'd you guess?"

"I don't have to guess. I know you. You said this is new to you, knowing you have a son?"

Ranger nodded. "He's seventeen. An indiscretion when I was way too young. The girl never told me. She died recently, and now..."

"And now, you suddenly have a son, in the middle of his teen years. That would be enough to shake up anyone. But for you, I think this is something else." He walked a few steps, stopped and turned to Ranger. "For whatever reason, he's brought you back full circle to your own youth, to your own anger. I would imagine there's some anger at the girl, too. Doesn't matter that's she's dead. She kept your son from you. I imagine he's angry, too."

"That would be an understatement."

"I could tell from the first day of Basic, you were harboring a lot of resentment, a lot of pain. And you had no control over it. I see it in a lot of recruits. Also, in a lot of longtime soldiers. Some of it's growing pains, and sometimes...it's PTSD."

Ranger's head jerked up.

Carter nodded. "Your reaction back there, to the skirmish on the obstacle course. Or your overreaction. You're still sweating, your eyes are dilated, your heart rate's still up. Classic symptoms."

They continued walking, neither speaking for quite a while. Finally, Ranger broke the silence. "I thought I'd dealt with that, but maybe you're right. It would explain a lot."

"When you were in Basic, I didn't have the time to single you out, find out why you were so angry. I just concentrated on helping you control it. Since then, you've seen a lot of combat, a lot of... tense situations. It would surprise me if you didn't have PTSD. You may have dealt with it, once, but it isn't something you cure. Anything can trigger flare ups. Looks like it has resurfaced again with you. I think it would be worthwhile for you to do more than just _deal_ with it. Get some help. Dig deep, dig it out. Face it. Don't bury it."

"You're talking about a shrink," Ranger said. Stephanie's face flashed in front of him. With a shock, he realized she knew him better than he knew himself. He took a deep breath and looked over at his former drill sergeant. "My wife said the same thing. I guess I should have listened to her."

Carter just shrugged. They continued walking, not saying anything, until they left the woods and entered the parade grounds.

"It was good to see you, Mañoso. But your place isn't here. Go home, to your wife, your family. Take care of business." Carter stuck out his hand and held his eyes steady with Ranger's. "Seeing a shrink isn't a weakness. PTSD isn't something you can simply shove down. I mean it, find a way to resolve your anger, don't just 'control' it. You're smarter than that." The two men shook hands. "Maybe I'll see you again, and your son, someday," Sergeant Major Carter said, and then he turned and briskly walked away.

...

Ranger wasn't quite ready to return home. He needed to visit one more place, one more person. He pulled in under the arched gates and drove up the winding road, stopping near the small, round brick building. It was a typical sunny day in Miami.

Ranger had been to Miami dozens of times in the past dozen years or so, but this was the first time he'd visited his grandmother. At least since the funeral. He walked up to the mausoleum. The gate was open and he entered the cool interior. His grandmother was at the end, center spot. Standing before her plaque, he laid his hand against it. The plaque read:

 _Isadora Belén Milian de Mañoso_

 _Life is a Gift_

 _Unwrap Each Day_

 _and Live it to its Fullest_

He exhaled, murmuring, "Abuelita."

His grandmother Isadora had been a tiny woman with a large presence. She hadn't been your warm and cuddly granny, but Ranger knew she'd loved him deeply. She'd been there for him when he needed her the most. She was calm and practical, a balm to his explosive and erratic behavior. There'd been times, during his emotional teen years, that he'd thought of her as cold and unfeeling, but he knew now that it had taken everything in her not to reach out and hug him, to cry with him. If she had broken down, not shown him the strength within her, he would have, in all probability, continued his destructive behaviors. But she was unwavering in her resolve to show him another way of dealing with his out of control emotions.

She did that by example, by exhibiting a calm demeanor and a stoic face, even during his most explosive outbursts and, yes, tantrums. He had been so angry when he'd arrived at his grandmother's. He'd been exiled to Miami by his parents, and he'd hated them for it. They'd rejected him, hurt him deeply. All at a time when he had also just been rejected—dumped—by his first love. He was, by his own admission, out of control and a bastard to be around.

Ranger gave a silent chuckle as he remembered what he'd been like the first few months in Miami. How his grandmother had had the patience to deal with him for three years was beyond his comprehension. If his teen self had shown up on Ranger's doorstep, he would have kicked his sorry ass all the way back home to his parents. Life definitely was stranger than fiction because his teen self _had_ shown up on his doorstep in the form of Connor. Anger, bitter, resentful and grieving.

And a part of Ranger had immediately gone back in time to his own teen years. He'd never truly come to terms with all that pent-up anger, he had just learned to hide it, suppress it. Then he'd become a soldier, a Ranger, and then a mercenary. He'd seen, and done, things that would curdle most men's souls. And he'd been fine, for years. But seeing Connor and feeling his internal pain had released all those buried emotions within himself.

And now, he had to deal with them. Truly deal with them. Sergeant Major Carter was right. He couldn't just bury them anymore. Stephanie was also right. He needed some help and Dr. Fincher was the right one to provide that help. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled. Now, he could return home. It was time. If he still had a home and a wife to go home to. Chagrinned, he remembered that he'd just walked out and left Stephanie with the mess of a trashed house and... his children. Would any of them want to see him again? He had a lot to make up for.

He glanced again at his grandmother's plaque. " _Life is a Gift_." Tears stung his eyes. Overwhelmed by the sudden realization, he had to reach out with both hands to steady himself. For once in his adult life, he didn't fight the tears or the emotions. He let out a shuddering sob as tears ran freely down his cheeks.

He'd been given two incredible new lives—blessed with two unexpected gifts. Stunned, he realized his children weren't punishments or karmic retributions. They were given to him as a reward, for fixing his Karma. They were to be unwrapped, each and every day, and enjoyed to the fullest. Make that three gifts. Stephanie had also been a godsend to him. One that he would not take for granted.

He didn't know how long he stood there, but, with a last shuddering breath, he straightened. Tracing his finger along the etched name on the plaque, he whispered, "Gracias, Abuelita. Me han dado el mejor regalo de todos."

[ _Thank you, dearest Grandmother. You have given me the greatest gift of all_.]


	35. Chapter 35

**CHAPTER 35**

 **Present Day Trenton**

Connor walked the length of the front of the school. He saw the bus pull up and Julie get off. From a distance, he was once again startled at the beauty of his half-sister. She would have men falling at her feet someday. She was already garnering attention. He'd heard the comments some of his so-called friends had made. That was a situation in the making that he'd deal with eventually. Right now, he had other issues to tackle.

"Julie, wait up!" he called as he loped down the sidewalk shortening the distance between them. She stopped and frowned as she watched him approach.

"You're still grounded," she said. "Just because you're staying with your uncle doesn't mean you can drive to school."

"Not that it's any of your business," he said, "but Chase dropped me off. I'll be taking the bus home with you today. I'm working with Louis to repair more of the damage."

"That's good," she said. "Ranger's still gone. I'd like for everything to be back to normal when he comes back—if you haven't run him off forever. What were you thinking, Connor? I mean, I know what you were thinking with. I saw that slut run from your room."

"Julie, I, uh, I'm sorry. It got way out of hand. I feel pretty bad about it."

"You should feel bad, but you don't have to apologize to me. It's Ranger and Stephanie. They're the ones you hurt."

"Hurt? I didn't hurt Ranger. He's like Iron Man."

"He's not. He's my dad, too, and I know what a great guy he is. You came into the family like you're some put upon prince, and you've screwed everything up. I don't know why you are so angry at Ranger. None of this is his fault. You should be blaming your mother! Ranger didn't even know you were alive. If he had, he'd have taken care of you. I know."

"I don't need him to take care of me," Connor declared. "And leave my mother out of this. You know nothing about it."

"What I do know is we were a happy family of three and now we're a miserable non-family of four."

"That's what I'm sorry about," he said. "I really don't want to screw up your life…"

"Too late."

"I mean it," he continued. "I don't want to screw up anything. I'll keep a low profile for the rest of the year. I might go talk to the school counselor and see if there is any way I could take extra classes and graduate early. Then I'll get out of your life. Things will be good for you again."

She frowned. "I don't want you to get out of my life," she said. The sound of a bell ringing behind her grabbed her attention. "I've got to go," she told him. "I don't want you out of my life, I just want you to stop screwing it up." She turned and ran into the building.

Connor walked slowly up the steps into the same door Julie had disappeared through. His first period was a study hall, and it drove him crazy to have be at school so early and then just sit around. He didn't do much homework. He didn't have to. He was smart. He listened in class and then did just what was necessary to get by. It had frustrated his dad, because John Madrid had been a straight A student, a fact he'd been proud of all his life.

Connor slid into a desk as the final bell rang, and opened a book. He knew it was wise to look busy. So, he stared at the pages, but his eyes were seeing another scenario entirely. He was seeing his father and mother in their kitchen at home. John used to come up behind her at the sink when her hands were wet with suds and kiss her on the back of the neck. She'd squeal and turn and suds would go flying. John would laugh, and Connor would pretend he was grossed out by his parents' display of affection. But he'd liked it. He liked that his parents were happy together.

His mother had gone so suddenly there'd been no time to get the details she'd kept from him all his life. After the funeral, he'd talked to Mary Oliveiras, the only grandmother he'd ever known. She'd confirmed that John was not his biological father. Then he'd asked her the big question and was relieved when she'd said, John knew. John knew that he was not Connor's biological father, but he'd accepted Connor as his son from the get go. That somehow made it a little better. He'd been wanted. He hadn't been a burden to John. And that was important, because no biological son could have loved a dad better than he loved John Madrid.

He turned a page in his book, trying to look as if he was studying the chapter, and thought about John. How would John have reacted to the scene Ranger walked in on?

He couldn't imagine, because it would never have happened. Nothing like it ever had happened. His friends weren't perfect, and they'd gotten into their fair share of trouble, but they'd never been purposefully destructive. It didn't happen. Oh yeah, once they'd rutted up old man Miller's pasture with four wheelers, and they'd caught hell for it. But that had been an accident and they'd made restitution.

The kids that had descended on Ranger's house had been willfully destructive. They were children of privilege and didn't respect anyone or anything but their own pursuit of fun. Don was okay, and Connor was pretty sure he hadn't been responsible for the debacle. More likely it was Ashleigh and her friends. He was done with that group, and if they hadn't figured it out by now, they would soon.

The bell rang and he was surprised the hour had passed so quickly. He needed to stop at his locker before his next class, so he made his way out of the room and down the hall. He saw her coming and stopped for a moment to watch her. Hard to believe just a few days ago he'd wanted a piece of that in the worst way. Come to think of it, the worst way was what he got.

Her eyes took him in and suggestively lingered at his crotch. "Hey, Connor. Good to see your dad didn't kill ya." She giggled.

"No. He didn't."

"I'm glad you didn't get in too much trouble." She batted her eyelashes at him. "Things were getting pretty interesting when we got interrupted. Maybe you'd like to try it again?"

"I don't think so, Ashleigh," he said. He let his eyes roam up and down her figure, which was on display beneath designer skinny jeans and a skin-tight sweater. "Having my old man come in in the middle kind of … changed my mind for me."

"I thought maybe after school we could hang out," she suggested.

"No can do. After school, I'm going home to replant flower beds that got torn up the other night."

"That's crazy!" she said, affronted. "Your parents are making you do that? Why can't the help do it? I mean you guys are loaded. That house is fab."

And that was the problem, he realized. Maybe the kids weren't playing him. They just truly had no concern for anyone but themselves. He decided to have a little fun. "The house is fab. My old man was pretty pissed. And yeah, he has money. You know how he got it?"

"He, uh, he owns some business."

"Well, yeah," Connor said. "He owns a security company. But that's just cover. He's really a government assassin. He kills people for a living. And it's a good living. I think you're safe, though. He doesn't usually go after women. Not unless it's a sanctioned hit. But I think he got a pretty good look at some of the guys downstairs."

"You mean he'd…"

"Probably not," Connor shrugged casually. "But he was furious. Our house was really trashed." That was the complete truth. "He's got a lot of ... skills. He can take someone out and make their body disappear like they never even existed."

Ashleigh's eyes were wide. She was believing every word, the stupid twit. "I'm a lot like my old man," Connor continued. "We tend to go for the same type of woman, so I don't think he'd do anything to _hurt_ you. Maybe you can come over for dinner sometime. Meet the family, formally." She was already taking small steps backward, widening the space between them.

"I, um, I'm not sure," she said, "I'll let you know. Gotta run. I don't want to be late for class." She took off down the hall. Good riddance, he thought.

At the bank of lockers assigned to the freshmen, Julie was rolling her eyes. "Tia, _pullease_!" she said. Tia's turquoise hair had faded into a soft blue, and her eye shadow had softened as well. Her lips were pink today and she was rocking a fluffy print shirtdress with ruffles at the sleeves. The dress looked like June Cleaver on steroids, and no way should it have gone with saddle shoes and pale blue anklets, but it did. Tia looked really cute, and even though Julie was frustrated with the conversation, her friend made her smile.

"I'm not kidding, Julie. Your brother is hot. Everyone is talking about the party you guys had. Why didn't you invite me?"

" _I_ didn't have a party. Connor did something stupid and a bunch of kids came in and destroyed the house. It's been a nightmare. I wasn't there, but I'm dealing with the aftermath. Stephanie is pissed off, and my dad was so mad—he left! I don't even know where he is."

"That's awful."

"Yeah, and Connor, who you think is hot, and I think is a dipwad, is completely to blame."

"That's terrible!" Tia exclaimed.

"I've been practicing my martial arts. I think I could take him. I'd like to kick the jerk in the butt!" Julie said.

"You wouldn't!"

Julie hesitated. For all her odd appearance, Tia was a good person. She was actually concerned for Connor's well-being. "No, I wouldn't," she said, finally. "I don't want to hurt him, I just want him to try to blend in a little better." At Tia's raised eyebrows she continued. "Connor and I are half-sibs. Both of us lived with our mothers, and now we're both living with our dad. It's sort of a recent thing, and we're still working out the kinks."

"That's cool," Tia said.

Julie gave her friend a small smile as she slammed her locker door shut and they headed for class. It was the most background she'd given to anyone, and while it wasn't near the full story, it seemed to be enough for Tia.

Later in the afternoon as they were seated side-by-side on the school bus, Julie turned to Connor. "I was thinking maybe I could help you with the flower bed thing," she said.

"Nah, it's okay. I'll get it."

"I can help, really. I'd like to," she said. "And Connor, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For saying you should be mad at your mom. I had no right."

He was quiet for a moment. "Apology accepted. And I apologize, too. You're right. I need to cut Ranger some slack. He didn't ask for any of this."

"You know you're so much like him. I get kind of jealous."

"Jealous!" He was astounded. "I'm no threat to you and your dad, kid. He can't stand me."

"That's not true," Julie said. "And you are so much like him. You look just like him."

"I don't want to be like him!"

"What's wrong with being like our father?"

"I want to be like _my_ father. John Madrid is my father. I loved him and he was a good dad. I don't know anything about Ranger. He may be a good guy, but he's not my father."

"You're kind of screwed up."

He looked at her disgusted expression. "Well, duh!" he responded, which made her smile which was what he'd been after.

"Let me tell you something, Connor. I have a stepdad. Legally, he's my real dad because he adopted me. But Ranger never gave me up. He has helped my family out with money, and visited me when he could. The thing about Ron, my stepdad, is that he isn't a really good guy at times. He might love me, but he might not." She shrugged. "I wanted to move up here and Ranger worked it out with Ron. I don't know how he did it, but he did. I get that you don't want to be disloyal to your dad … and I'm glad you had a good one. But getting to know and care about Ranger shouldn't take away from your dad. It should add to you. You're lucky."

"You're full of shit," Connor said. "Losing my parents isn't lucky."

"Of course it's not, idiot. But you've got a chance to be supported by people who care about you. Don't screw it up."

They were quiet for a while. As they neared their stop, Julie asked, "Was it bad today, with everybody at school?"

"Not so bad," he said. "I think most of the kids were afraid to talk to me about it, and I didn't go looking for conversation."

"A lot of kids knew about it. Maybe not what really happened, but that there was a party and something big happened. You know my friend Tia?"

"The scary little chick with half a shaved head and turquoise hair?"

"Yeah, but she's not scary. She was upset because she thought it was our party and I hadn't invited her. I told her I had nothing to do with it. She thinks you're hot."

"Now that is scary," Connor said. "Are you trying to set me up with her?"

"No way. I wouldn't let you near any of my friends. I know what you have on your mind."

"Nothing different on my mind than on any other guy's," he said.

They fell into silence again and his thoughts turned to Ranger. Was that what it had been like with Ranger and his mom … the way it had been with Ashleigh and him? He realized he was the same age his mom had been when she got pregnant with him. And Ranger had been two years younger. Just a year older or so than Julie was right now. He shook his head. It was hard to be angry with someone that probably hadn't had a clue about what they were doing. And now Ranger was trying to make things right. Don't screw it up, Julie had just said to him. He turned toward her as they exited the bus.

"You're right. I need not to screw this up. And I need to figure out how not to screw it up. I never wanted a sister, but since I've got one, I'm glad it's you. You give good advice."

Julie punched him in the arm, hard. She grinned at his yelp of pain. "You're lucky to have me." She laughed as she ran up the drive, leaving him standing still, rubbing his arm and grinning at the retreating form of his sister.

...

What was wrong with her? It was the 21st century. A girl could call the guy. Especially when the girl was the wife the guy had walked out on days ago. Without further ado, she opened her contacts and hit his number. Oh yeah, she could call him, but when it went to voicemail she'd have to call Tank and ask him to find Ranger for her. And when he did, she was going to reorder that bromance. Husband and wife meant more than nonstop crazy good sex. It meant true commitment, sharing on the deepest level. And every time things got deep, Tank seemed to be there.

"Babe." His softly spoken answer took her by such surprise she almost couldn't talk. There was silence for a second while she drew in a deep breath.

"You answered," she said, the surprise evident in her voice. "You're not in some third world country reorganizing a government?"

"I don't do that anymore. I'm a married man."

"Huh! You sure about that, Batman?"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I'm pissed off. I think there are other options than leaving."

"In retrospect, you may be right," he acknowledged. "But at the time, I had to go."

"I understand that, but maybe it's time to modify that _have to leave_ gene."

"I'm working on it, Babe. That's all I have been doing the past two days. I should have called, but... I didn't know what to say. I'm not used to not having all the answers."

Steph could hear something different in his voice, his words—a vulnerability. "Where are you anyway? Your voice is echoing. Are you at the Pentagon?"

He laughed. "I'm standing in a mausoleum. In front of a plaque at my abuela's grave."

"Oh." She was suddenly speechless.

"I'm coming home, Babe. I'll be in better control, but I'm going to schedule some extensive sessions with Dr. Fincher. I'd like you to be there, too."

"You mean like marital counseling?"

"No. Like crazy husband counseling. I want you to be part of it. Maybe the kids, too."

"Oh."

"You said that before," he teased.

She should be pissed. She was pissed on some level, but she couldn't find it—the anger, irritation, hurt. What she felt was relief. Ranger, her Ranger, was on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, I guess I did. I called to tell you we've got the place cleaned up. Louis and Connor have worked hard."

"Connor?" She heard the astonishment in his voice.

"Yeah. Connor. I'm not excusing what he did, but I know he's sorry. I think he's won a little respect from Louis. He's been staying with Chase, but I want to ask him to come back home. I mean, if that's…"

"Ask him to come back home."

"You're sure?" she asked.

"I'm sure."

"I told your mother about the party and what happened after. She was upset."

"I bet she was," he said. "The question is who was she upset with, me or Connor?"

"Both of you. I told her about the Murano piece she gave me. She doesn't want me to try and replace it. She's going to buy me another."

"That's nice." Great. They dwindled to small talk. How great was that?

"Since I'm in Miami," Ranger said, "I'm going to make an unscheduled visit to RangeMan. I'll spend the night in the apartment there and meet with the staff in the morning. I'll get a flight reservation made for later tomorrow. And I know I need to talk with Connor and with Julie. But I need some time with you. I need, want to make it up to you for leaving you to deal with my messes. I need to make sure you know how committed I am to this marriage. I love you, Stephanie."

"I…I love you, too." She was a little breathless. But she found her breath for another question. "Ranger, have you talked to Tank since you left?"

"No."

"Does he know where you are?"

"No."

"One more question. Are you going to fire Hal?"

"No."

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow." They disconnected and she smiled. Maybe the bromance wasn't as strong as it used to be. That was a step in the right direction.


	36. Chapter 36

**CHAPTER 36**

 **Present Day New Jersey**

The cafeteria was always a chaotic, noisy place, but Julie and Tia had claimed seats at a table against the wall where it was quieter. At least quiet enough to be able to carry on a conversation without shouting. They had an extra credit project to plan, so they ate lunch quickly and got down to work. A few minutes later, they were interrupted by Connor.

"Hey, Julie," Connor said as he swung his leg over the back of the chair and sat down across the table from the two girls.

Julie looked up and smiled at her brother. "Hey, Connor." She felt Tia kick her under the table. "I don't think you've met my friend," she said hastily, twisting her body around so she could see both of them. "Tia, this is my brother Connor Madrid. And this is Tia Florentino."

"Nice to finally meet you," Tia purred, fluttering her eyelashes trying to look sexy, but looking more like she had something irritating her eye.

"Um, yeah," Connor responded, focusing back to Julie. "I'm moving back home today. My uncle Chase is bringing my stuff up. He's going to pick me up after school. You want to go home with us?"

Julie shook her head. "I can't. I'm staying after school so Tia and I can get a head start on our extra credit project. Her mom's going to pick us up and bring me home in time for dinner. But I'm glad you're moving back. Did you hear Dad's coming home tonight?"

"Yeah. Stephanie called last night and told me. That's when she asked if I wanted to come home. I'm a little nervous."

"Don't be," Julie said. "I have a feeling everything's going to be okay. Just remember to brush that chip off your shoulder before you drive through the gate."

"I guess that's better than having Ranger knock it off, along with my head," Connor quipped.

"Don't even joke about that," Julie shuddered. "Just tell him you're sorry and mean it. He'll see the hard work you've put in to fix the house and yard. He'll forgive you. Don't worry."

Connor nodded and stood. "I'll see you at home, later tonight. Nice to meet you, Tia." He left the cafeteria.

Tia giggled. "I'll say it again, your brother is smoking hot. And it's obvious he's your brother. You guys look so much alike."

"Yeah, we both take after our father. I guess Cuban genes are dominant," Julie snorted.

"Oh my god, I'm late," cried Tia, grabbing her backpack and jumping up. "I'm supposed to meet Tiffany at her locker and give her my English lit notes from yesterday. See ya later, Julie."

Julie slowly gathered up the remains of her and Tia's lunch and tossed it in the trash as she left the cafeteria. She stopped by the restroom on the way to her locker. She'd just finished washing her hands when her cell phone rang. She didn't recognize the number, but answered her phone anyway, "Yo." Julie grinned to herself. She was getting this Jersey lingo down pat.

"Julie?" a man's voice asked.

"Yeah, this is Julie. Who's this?"

"Jax. Jackson Bomba. You came in my store asking about Corrine Silva."

"Oh, yeah. Hi."

"You said to call if I had anything else to tell you about Corrine," he reminded her.

"Okay," Julie said, hesitantly.

"Well, your visit got me thinking. So I went home and looked through some old stuff," Jax said. "I found a bracelet that belonged to Corrine. She must have left it at my house. I'd forgotten all about it until you stopped by. I thought, maybe, her son would want it. She was pretty fond of it. It has all these little silver charms on it that were, you know, special to her."

"Wow! That's cool. I think Connor would like it. Thanks, Mr. Bomba. I'll tell Connor and maybe he can stop by your store this weekend and get it."

"Well, the thing is, I'm going out of town and I don't know how long I'm gonna be gone."

"Oh," Julie said, disappointed. "I don't think either of us can get to Newark until the weekend. School, you know."

"I can drop it off today. What time do you get out of school?" he asked. Julie hesitated. He continued, "You go to Princeton High, don't you?"

"Yeah," Julie said.

"I can meet you outside the school and give it to you then."

"I'm supposed to work on a project after school..." Julie hedged.

"Look, if you don't want the bracelet, it's no sweat off my nose," Jax huffed.

"No, I want it," she said quickly. "I guess I can tell my friend I have to postpone the project until tomorrow. Okay, I'll meet you after school."

"Good," he said and then paused. "Listen, why don't you meet me at the side gate. The front entrance is always a zoo, with buses and parents and shit."

"Okay," Julie agreed. "Can you be here by 3:30?"

"Perfect. See you then, Julie." Jax hung up and a slow smile spread across his face. Like shooting fish in a barrel, he thought to himself.

...

Connor burst out the front door of the school, along with a couple hundred other students. Everyone rushed toward the buses or the parking lot, eager to have the school day over. Connor saw Chase's SUV and started jogging toward it. Before he got there, he saw Tia walking to the front of the pickup lane where parents waited for their kids. Julie wasn't with her. He stopped when he reached the SUV, but continued to watch as Tia slid into the front passenger seat of a Volvo and then it drove off. Where was Julie? Maybe he'd misunderstood their plans.

Chase reached over and opened the passenger door. "Get in, Connor. I've got great news! Eric's latest tests show his immunity has improved enough that they are going to release him from the hospital. He's finally coming home, probably tomorrow. This is weeks earlier than we thought. How 'bout we stop by Dairy Queen and celebrate with a chocolate shake? You can get it as thick as you want. My treat."

With one last look over his shoulder, Connor climbed in. "That's terrific news. Eric must be bouncing off the walls. I'm happy for all of you. And Dairy Queen sounds good, but can I have a Reese's Pieces Blizzard instead?"

"Anything you want, buddy. Buckle up."

...

Julie stood at the edge of the sidewalk, pulling her sweater tightly around her to keep out the chilly wind. She nervously tapped her toe. It was 3:40 and Mr. Bomba still hadn't showed. The crush of students milling around the school had diminished considerably. Finally, she saw a white car turn the corner of the school building and drive slowly toward her. As the Honda Civic pulled up next to her, she recognized Jackson Bomba at the wheel. Julie leaned down as he lowered the passenger side window.

"Hi, Mr. Bomba," she said.

"Hi, Julie," Jax replied. "Sorry if I kept you waiting. Traffic was crazy."

"Thanks for doing this. I mean, for the bracelet and for bringing it to me. I haven't told Connor yet. I thought I'd surprise him."

He reached across and opened the passenger door. "Have a seat while I dig it out of my old backpack." He pulled a ratty looking nylon backpack from the back seat and plopped it on his lap.

When Julie hesitated, he patted the passenger seat and reiterated, "Sit. I don't bite."

She bit her lower lip and got in the car, but kept the door open.

"I got the heat on. Shut the door, willya." Obediently, Julie closed the car door.

Jax started searching in the backpack, muttering to himself. Finally, he looked over at her. "I can't believe it. That damn bracelet has been in this backpack for nearly twenty years. I thought I put it back in here after we talked today, but I musta left it on the counter at the store."

"Oh." Julie looked crestfallen. When she reached for the door handle, Jax spoke up, "It'll only take a little while to go back and get it. Come back with me, get the bracelet and then I'll drop you off at your house."

"Um, I don't think I should..." Julie started.

"That's up to you, but like I told you before, I'm leaving town and don't know when I'll be back. If you want Corrine's bracelet, this is the only opportunity you got. It won't take long. It'd be a real special present to give your brother. Something no one else could give him."

Julie bit her lower lip again. "Okay, but we need to do this quickly. I have to be home in time for dinner."

Jax pulled away from the sidewalk and then made his way to the interstate. As he drove, he asked Julie how she liked school. When that topic ran dry, he asked about what music she was interested in and anything else he could think of to keep her mind occupied. They made good time and as he turned off on the street his shop was on Julie looked relieved. But when he pulled into the alleyway in back of the long row of shops and stores, she asked, "Where are you going?"

"I always park in back. It's easier. Besides, the front's for customers," he told her. He parked alongside a padlocked back door and turned off the engine.

"Is this your store?" Julie asked, looking around the alley, trying to orient herself.

"Sure," Jax said, as he got out of the car. He unlocked the back door of the store and told her, "C'mon in. It'll take me just a minute. I left it on the front counter."

Julie got out and followed him in, intending to stay close by the back door, but she was caught by surprise when Jax grabbed her arm and started dragging her further in. At first she tried to shrug him off, shouting, "What are you doing? Let me go! NO!" But when she looked into his eyes, she realized she was in danger. Without conscious thought, she shifted her stance slightly and using both hands, grabbed Jax's arm. Twisting her body, she forced his arm over her shoulder and then suddenly bent over. Jax went flying, landing with a thud on the concrete floor. Her next thought was to flee.

Unfortunately, she'd flipped him closer to the rear door and had to run by him to get out. Jax was able to grab her ankle and trip her. She kicked out hard with both legs, but only got him with a glancing blow that slid down his shoulder. She struggled mightily, but Jax was able to pull himself up her prone body, straddling her. She tried to strike his nose with the heel of her hand, but he pinned her arms, and before she could react, he plowed his fist into her face.

Jax dragged Julie's unconscious body across the storeroom floor to a small office. Once there, he continued on to a miniscule windowless bathroom. Before he left her in there, he used a zip tie to restrain her hands. He took her phone from her back pocket, but not before he allowed himself a quick grope. Grinning, he closed the door behind him and locked it.

He glanced around the back room. It was identical to the back room of his store, but this one was empty, except for a cot and his suitcase set up against the far wall. The building had been recently vacated and was up for lease. The owner had left a spare key with Jax so potential renters could easily access the store.

Jax found the toolbox he'd put there earlier and extracted a hammer. After taking the SIM card from Julie's phone, he smashed both thoroughly. Then he went out the back door and drove the Honda to the automotive repair store at the end of the block, pulling into an open bay. A big burly man wearing a pair of dark gray overalls drew his head out from under the hood of a Lincoln Town Car and walked over to Jax.

As Jax got out of the Honda, he asked, "Hey, Afonso. Did you have any problems with that, uh, thing I asked you to do?"

"Piece of cake," Afonso replied. "Couldn't have done it without the wetsuit, though. Water's way too cold."

"So, it'll work without a hitch?" Jax asked.

"The latch on the bottom opens smooth as silk, but you'll have to do something to contain the garbage. You don't need trash floating out from under the dock. Be a dead giveaway."

"Thanks for the heads up," Jax said. "I think I can deal with a little trash. The payout will be more than worth it."

Afonso grinned. "Just like the old days, heh? I miss the gang. And I'm gonna miss you. You sure you want to do this?"

"I'm more than sure. I'm ready to retire. I've already got my spot on the beach picked out."

"And you say they speak Portuguese there?" Afonso asked.

"Yep. It's the official language. It'll be just like going home, but on a tropical island. Can't ask for any better than that."

"I'm jealous, Jax," Afonso uttered.

"Come on down for a visit sometime. I'll hook you up with a dark-skinned beauty and all the Tiger beer you can drink."

"I don't think my wife would go for that," Afonso joked. He stood back and looked at the Honda. "A Civic?" he groused. "That won't fetch much. I keep telling ya to bring me a Lexus or a BMW."

Jax handed Afonso the car keys. "I had my eye on a Macan, but decided to go another way," Jax chuckled to himself. "Just get rid of this one quick. Real quick. It's gotta disappear within the next hour. And thanks, buddy." He stuck out his hand.

Afonso shook his hand, saying, "You take care of yourself and drink one for me when you get there." He picked up a blowtorch and yelled to a coworker, "Hey, Augie, we got a hot one." The other man grabbed a toolbox and hurried over.

Jax left the garage and started walking back the way he'd come. Now for the next step in his plan: making the most important call of his life.


	37. Chapter 37

**CHAPTER 37**

 **Present Day New Jersey**

"Who was that?" Connor asked.

Stephanie ignored him and attempted to make a call. Her hands were shaking badly and she dropped the phone. He scooped it up from the table where it had landed and handed it to her. "Stephanie?" he asked again.

This time he saw the screen flash and watched as the call connected, only to have Stephanie disconnect it immediately.

Before he could ask again she turned watery blue eyes toward him. "It was a ransom call. Julie's been kidnapped!"

"WHAT?"

"I tried to call Ranger, but it went to voicemail. He must still be on the plane. I don't know…"

"Call the police," Connor said.

"No! I can't. He said no police."

"They always say that," Connor told her. "It was a guy?"

"I think so. I don't know. It was electronic. I think it was a guy. He's going to call back in two hours with instructions. He's got Julie!"

"Did you hear her? I mean does he really have her?"

"No, I didn't hear her, but she's not here. Tia's mother was supposed to drop her off after they were done with their project and she's not here, and I don't even know Tia's last name!" Stephanie was getting ready to break down and sob, Connor thought. That wouldn't help anything.

"Call Julie!" he commanded.

Steph nodded and hit Julie's speed dial. She listened to a recording tell her the caller wasn't available. She stared over at Connor. "It didn't even go to voicemail," she uttered, her voice trembling.

"Since you can't get Ranger, call Tank," Connor said. "I think I know Tia's last name. Julie just introduced me to her at lunch. I'll see if I can get a hold of her."

"Tank was next on my list to call. See if you can find Tia." Stephanie once again made a call on her phone and Connor left the kitchen.

His heart was pounding as he ran upstairs to his room for privacy. Kidnapped? Who would kidnap Julie? What kind of a place had he been dropped into? This was a long way from Kipton. Nothing ever happened there. He tried to clear his mind of the disbelief and shock. What the hell was Tia's last name? He thought hard. Floresco? No, that wasn't it.

He visualized the lunchroom earlier in the day when Julie had introduced him to the odd, but sort of cute girl trying to bat her eyelashes at him. Florentino. That was it. His satisfaction at remembering was short-lived. Around these parts that was a common last name, and nobody in this area was listed. They were all too _exclusive._

He thought for a bit and then looked at his contacts. Lester was in his phone because of the martial arts training they'd done. He called him immediately. With any luck, he could get him to help before Tank spread the alarm about Julie. It wasn't that he didn't think Julie was in trouble. He hoped to God she wasn't, but he'd seen Tia immediately after school and he'd known then something was going on. If Julie was up to something, he needed to have her back. She'd had his, several times lately.

Julie wasn't the little angel everyone thought she was. She was a good kid, but she was smart and if she was hot for some guy, this might be the way she planned to get around Ranger and Stephanie to see him. But not with a ransom call. Something had gone seriously wrong. He was betting Tia knew something about what Julie had planned. If he played it right he might be able to get some information from her.

Lester's voice boomed into the room and Connor clicked off the speaker button and put the phone to his ear. "Hey, Lester, I need a favor and I'm thinking you can help. On the down low, for the time being. I need a phone number and all I have is the girl's name. But I need it bad."

"Yeah, buddy," Lester laughed. "I get that 'need it bad' stuff. You caught me at the right time and place. Hit me."

"Her name is Tia Florentino. I go to school with her so I know she lives in this general area, but I don't have an address or parents' names, or …"

"I'm on it. Hang on." Lester came back on the line in thirty seconds. "Home phone or cell?"

"Uh, cell," Connor said. Lester gave him the number that Connor entered directly into his contacts. "That's great. How'd you do that?"

"RangeMan super search. There were several listings for Florentino, but only one family with a Tia, and she only lives a few miles from you. Good luck, buddy, and remember—always put a helmet on that soldier!"

It took a second for Lester's meaning to sink in. "Uh, no. It's not like that. I'm…"

"I know what's it like," Lester sympathized. "Practice safe sex is my motto. And I say practice a lot. I gotta go. Tank's having a seizure about something." Lester disconnected and Connor wasted no time dialing Tia's number.

"Hello." Her voice was tentative. She didn't recognize the number. He realized he was lucky she hadn't let it go to voicemail, so he hurried to identify himself.

"Tia, It's Connor, Julie's brother."

"Oh, hi!" she said. "Did you get my number from Julie?"

"I did," he said. He was not going to be completely upfront with Tia, because if Julie was in serious trouble Tia didn't need to know. "Is Julie with you?" he asked. "I need to talk to her for a bit."

"No, she's not here," Tia said, and he heard her voice deflate a little. She'd thought he was calling to talk to her.

"Dang," Connor said. "I need to talk to her, and I thought if she was with you I could meet up with you guys, maybe hang out."

"Sorry," Tia said.

"Well, no big deal. Hey, Tia, you and I could hang out some time. I mean, if you aren't already hooked up…"

"I'm not, and that would be great!" The enthusiasm was back in her voice and Connor felt a momentary twinge of guilt at playing her. But he needed info.

"We'll plan something soon," he said. "But for now, I really need to find Julie. I thought you guys were working on a project together."

"We were supposed to, but we had to reschedule."

"Tia, do you know where she is? It would save a lot of trouble for me if you did." He tried to sound big brother-ish. A little exasperated, but still casual.

"I might know," Tia said with a laugh. "But it might be a secret." She was flirting. But what she said caused Connor's stomach to drop. What had Julie gotten into?

"You can tell me, sweet thing," he said. "We're friends." He winced at his less than sophisticated attempt to flirt back. It was disingenuous, but he had no choice.

"I wanna tell you, Connor, but I can't. Honest. It's sort of a secret, but it's one you'll like."

What the hell was going on? "Okay, Tia, I'm going to be straight with you. Julie and I are kind of a new blended family. We're doing great, but we've gotten into a little trouble, and…"

"Yeah, I heard about that party," Tia said. "You should have invited me!"

"Next time you're first on the list, babe. C'mon. Tell me what she's up to. I don't want her to get in trouble for missing dinner. She's not home yet and the old man is coming back from … a business trip tonight. She needs to be here. Can you help me find her?"

"Okay," Tia said. "But she might get mad at me."

"But I won't be mad," Connor said, letting his voice drop to a husky tone. He heard her indrawn breath.

"I don't exactly know where she is," Tia said. "But I know what she's doing. She's getting a gift for you."

"For me?" Connor was astonished. Whatever he'd been expecting to hear, that wasn't it.

"Yeah. Some guy your mom used to know has a silver charm bracelet of your mom's, from when she was young. It sounded really special. He called Julie and she was going to get it to give to you as a surprise. She's gonna be pissed at me for telling you."

"No, she won't." It was all he could get out. His head was spinning.

"You want to come over to my place tonight?" Tia asked. "After dinner, I mean. We could watch a movie or something."

"That'd be great, Tia, but I can't tonight. Like I said, the old man is coming home. I need to be here and so does Julie. Thanks for the info. I'll—I'll call you soon." He disconnected and let the phone slide from his fingers onto his bed. Julie was in big trouble.

He picked his phone up and searched Wilson's Automotive. He hit the call button, not sure what he was going to say when the phone was answered. A recorded voice informed him to leave a message at the beep. He disconnected.

A memory flashed in his mind. One of those mostly suppressed snapshots of his former life. His dad had been helping his mom with the dishes. She washed and he dried. Connor was doing homework at the kitchen table. His dad had popped his mom on the butt with a dishtowel and she'd retaliated by flicking soap suds on his nose. They'd laughed and ended up hugging. Connor remembered as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. As they finished up the dishes, his mom picked up her wedding rings from the counter and slipped them back on. John had impulsively grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. And then he'd turned to Connor and said, "Can you believe it, Connor. I had the misfortune to marry a woman who is allergic to everything but gold. She can't wear the cheap stuff. No sirree, I had to pick a woman who can only wear gold." His mom had laughed and reminded him that she could also wear platinum if he was looking for a gift idea, but no silver. It gave her a rash. Then she'd dished up large bowls of ice cream for the three of them. It had been a good night.

The beep of an incoming text brought Connor front and center into the present. It was Tia. _Please don't tell Julie I told you about the bracelet. She was really excited about giving it to you. She wanted it to be a surprise._

It was a surprise. Connor felt sure his mother hadn't left behind a bracelet. Because if she had it would have been precious metal like gold and not something that Jackson Bomba would still have. It had to be Jackson Bomba. There was no one else Julie would have described as a friend of his mother's.

He thought about Julie's assertion that he should be angry with his mother and then her apology for saying it. Did the crazy kid think she needed to do something like this to make up with him? He'd said he accepted her apology.

Jackson Bomba had looked at Julie in a way that no grown man should look at a young girl. It made Connor sick to remember it. The creep had used a stupid ploy to get to Julie and it looked like Julie had fallen for it. The question was, what did Connor do now? How would he rescue Julie?

Connor went back downstairs and came to an abrupt halt. Tank, Hal, and two other guys he'd seen but didn't know were talking to Stephanie.

Hal was holding a small back box that looked like a modem. He and the other guys were discussing its use.

"Ranger will be landing soon," Tank said. "Lester is on the way to get him and bring him here and then we will wait for the second call. When it comes in we'll try to get a location on the caller and go from there."

"I know who has her." Connor's voice was loud and clear and all conversations came to a halt.

"I know who has her," he said again. "It's Jackson Bomba."

"Jackson Bomba!" Stephanie exclaimed.

"Jackson Bomba," Tank growled. "Why the fuck is that name familiar?"

"It's the auto parts guy," Stephanie said. "The one I talked to when I was trying to find Corrine, and the guy Julie and Connor went to visit recently."

Both Stephanie and Tank turned to Connor. "What do you know?" Tank asked.

"I know that, if it is him that took her, and I'm sure it is, she's in bad trouble."

"But why would he want Julie?" Stephanie asked.

"He told you when he called," Connor said. "He wants money. Let me tell you what I know." Connor had the full attention of everyone in the room, so he told them about seeing Tia after school and about getting her number from Lester and calling her. "When she said it was a friend of my mother's I knew it had to be him. There is no one else around here who has any idea of who my mother was."

"Maybe he really did have a bracelet to give her," Stephanie suggested.

"I don't think so, for two reasons," Connor said. "I saw the way he looked at Julie and…" He hesitated so long he had to reorganize his thoughts. He remembered the big meaty hands at the end of tattooed, muscled forearms, and his stomach clenched. "I saw the way he looked at Julie," Connor said again, "and he may have plans besides just getting money."

"Oh my God," Stephanie exclaimed.

"Yeah," Connor said. "And on top of everything else. My mother is—was allergic to most jewelry. Everything except gold and platinum. The only jewelry I ever saw her wear was her wedding ring. If Jackson Bomba did have a bracelet of hers it would have been gold and he'd have pawned it years ago."

"That's good work, kid," Tank said. "Though she could have left a cheap bracelet behind, because it turned her skin green or something."

"Yeah, I suppose. There is one other thing that's really bothering me. He doesn't know we know who he is. But he knows Julie will recognize him. If she's seen his face, he doesn't plan on letting her live."

Tank nodded.

The door burst open and Ranger and Lester came inside. Ranger took a look at his men gathered in the foyer and barked, "Report."

Tank did, in a clear and concise way. He told Ranger of the call and the caller's promise to call back with the amount of money and his delivery requests. "And the rest of the story you need to hear from Connor."

"No ping on her phone?" Ranger asked.

"Nothing," Hal said. "I'm betting it's been disabled."

Ranger turned his attention to Connor. Connor swallowed hard and tried to imitate Tank's reporting style as he told Ranger what he'd done to help find his sister.

There was no change in Ranger's expression. No softening of his steely gaze, but his gaze did linger on his son's face for an extended moment before he uttered words similar to Tank's earlier ones. "Good work. Well done."

Ranger turned to Tank. "I'll take you, Lester and Connor. Wrap the kid in Kevlar. The rest of you guys stay here with Stephanie. We'll be in constant communication. When the call comes, we'll know as soon as you do. Can you make that work?"

"I'm on it, boss," Hal said.

"Ranger, wait!" Stephanie said, moving to his side. "I want to go. She's my stepdaughter. I want to go."

"I need you here, Babe." He put his arm around her. "You need to answer his call and sound calm. We don't want him tipped off that we're on to him. After the call, we can regroup. I'm not trying to keep you from the action, but I need you to take the call. That's the first step in ensuring Julie's safety."

"I know, but I've seen him. I can recognize the SOB."

"I've seen him, too, Stephanie," Connor said. "I can take them right to the auto parts store, and I'll know Jackson Bomba the minute I see him."

"What else do we know about this guy?" Ranger asked. "Is he likely to be well-armed?"

Tank looked up from the screen of his phone. "He's a previous client of Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. Armed robbery. He was FTA and he did time for that but the original charge was dropped due to improper mirandizing."

"Shit!" Hal said. "Morelli screw that up?"

"Not likely," Ranger said. "Morelli doesn't make that kind of mistake. Do you remember bringing him in, Babe?"

"No."

"Nah, she wouldn't," Tank said. "It looks like it was during old Morty Beyer's reign of terror."

"He's a punk," Stephanie said. "I remember thinking he's just a grown-up punk. He acts like he's a macho he-man, but he's really a polyester-wearing, beer-gutted punk, and if he hurts Julie, I'll kill him!"

"Babe.

"I will, Ranger."

"You'll have to get in line. We're gonna roll on this so he doesn't have a chance to hurt her. Thanks to Connor, we've got a good start."


	38. Chapter 38

**CHAPTER 38**

 **Present Day New Jersey**

After the call, Jax stopped by the convenience store at the corner and grabbed a couple bags of chips, a package of mini powdered donuts, some string cheese, a plastic bottle of orange juice and a couple of Slim Jims. He returned to the back room of the vacant store and gingerly opened the locked bathroom door. He saw Julie rush toward him, so he threw the bag of food in and shut the door just as she slammed into it. He yelled through the door as he relocked it. "That's all the food you're getting, so make it last."

"Wait! Why are you keeping me in here? Let me out," Julie shouted, banging on the door with her bound hands. She kept shouting and pounding until her voice was hoarse and her hands raw. When there was no answer, only silence, she finally stopped. Tired and dejected, she slid down the door and when her butt hit the floor she cursed, loudly. She usually didn't use four-letter words, but she felt this situation justified it.

She also cursed her stupidity for getting in the car in the first place. She knew better than to trust strangers, but Mr. Bomba wasn't really a stranger. He was Connor's mom's old boyfriend. She'd thought he was... safe. She was wrong. And now she was a prisoner—in a dingy dirty bathroom.

She'd had time to study her prison and it wasn't much. It was a typical tiny bathroom with a sink, a toilet, a plastic wastebasket and an overhead light, none of which were too clean. There was no window, no mirror over the sink and the door locked from the outside.

Reaching over, she snagged the bag with both hands and brought it to her lap. Great, nothing but junk food. She had a momentary flashback to the time she'd been kidnapped by Edward Scrog, and all he'd fed her was junk food. A wave of fear swept over her, but it quickly turned to anger. She'd survived that earlier ordeal; she'd survive this one. She knew Ranger would find her. He was coming home tonight. Once he realized she was in trouble, he'd move heaven and earth to rescue her. She believed that with all her heart. But she also knew there had to be things she could do to help herself. And one thing she could do right now was keep up her strength.

She took out the orange juice. It was still cold and tasted great going down her scratchy throat. Next, was the string cheese and the single serving bag of Doritos. When she crunched down on the corn chip, her jaws protested. She gently ran her fingers over her swollen cheek. It hurt like heck. Tears welled up, but she fought them back. No one had ever hit her before.

She'd thought she'd been doing so well at martial arts, but she realized that Lester had been right. She knew the basic judo moves, but she had no idea what real fighting was all about. And none of her father's employees would ever be that tough on her for fear of hurting her. Sure, she'd gotten some bruises from hitting the mat, but Lester was always careful with her. But that awful Mr. Bomba hadn't pulled his punches. He'd really hauled off and slugged her full on. She cupped her cheek as her jaw throbbed and almost started crying again. With a shudder and a deep breath, she put a stop to that. There was no point in crying or letting fear take over. She had to be strong.

First off, she had to figure out why that awful man had kidnapped her. She didn't think he was crazy like Scrog had been. And she didn't think he was an enemy of her father, seeking revenge. So he either kidnapped her because he was a... rapist or a ... a murderer! She closed her eyes and her mind went to a very dark place. She began to hyperventilate. It took her a few minutes to get herself under control. No, she wouldn't go down that path—not yet.

The other motive would be money. He could have taken her to ransom her for money. That was a much, um, pleasanter scenario to contemplate. Her father had money. He wasn't filthy rich, but he wasn't hurting, either. And Mr. Bomba's eyes had lit up when he'd mentioned Stephanie's expensive sports car. So, maybe this was all about money. She fervently hoped so. She picked up a Slim Jim, but after smelling it, dumped it back in the bag. She wasn't that hungry...yet.

...

"I'm sorry." The three men turned to look at Connor. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I was sure he had her. You've been through the store and there's no evidence. I guess I was wrong."

"You're not wrong," Tank told the boy. The group was standing next to a RangeMan SUV in front of Wilson's Automotive. The area wasn't lighted but there was ambient light from the 7-Eleven at the end of the block, and from the Chinese restaurant a couple of doors down. There was a small amount of pedestrian traffic, most of it going into or coming out of the 7-Eleven. But the auto parts store was closed. Connor had watched in awe as Ranger walked to the entrance, magically opened the locked door and slipped inside. No alarm had gone off. Lester, Tank and Connor peered through the front window from the sidewalk, and they'd seen the shadowy figure of Ranger moving about inside. For a while Connor was hopeful he'd come out with Julie, but that hadn't happened.

"I guess I thought he'd have her stashed inside," Connor said.

"It's rarely that easy," Ranger replied. "I think you're right about Bomba, Connor. He's got Julie, we just don't know where. Hal's running a search on him. We'll wait until we hear from him, and then we'll take the next step. In the meantime, I'm going to have a talk with the proprietor of that auto body shop." He nodded his head to indicate a lighted shop across the street and at the opposite end of the block from the 7-Eleven.

"Yeah, that guy might have a relationship with the auto parts store. Like maybe they get their parts here. Maybe he knows Bomba," Lester said.

"I'm betting he does, but it's probably more like Wilson's gets their auto parts from him."

"You think it's a chop shop?" Tank asked.

"I know it is," Ranger said. "I may have had dealings with the guy that owns it, back in the day."

"Back in the day?" Connor asked.

"Yeah," Lester said. "Your daddy wasn't always the urbane sophisticated business professional he is now. He's had a checkered past."

"Shut up, Santos," Ranger said.

"All I'm saying is that looks can be deceiving," Lester said.

"Looks can be fucking deceiving, Santos," came Tank's baritone from the front of the vehicle. "Remember the chick in the bar in Tel Aviv?"

"Remember?" Lester asked. "I can't forget her … uh … him. I'm still traumatized from that."

"You want company?" Tank asked Ranger.

"Yeah, let's go visit the industrious guy who's still working at this time of night," Ranger said. "We'll see what he's up to and if he knows Jackson Bomba. Connor, stay here with Lester. If the call comes in, Hal will patch it through. We should be able to hear Stephanie. I think we've got a half-hour before the asshole said he'd call back."

Connor and Lester got back into the SUV and waited as Ranger and Tank went to the chop shop.

"I hope I'm not leading everyone down the wrong track," Connor said, "but Bomba is the only person I can think of that could say he was a friend of my mom's."

"You're missing one really big clue," Lester said. "Mr. Wilson has his hours printed right on his door. He shouldn't close for another hour and yet, here the building is, dark and locked up tight. I imagine it's something pretty important to take ole Jax away from his workplace … like kidnapping an innocent girl."

Connor startled as he heard Ranger's soft "Yo." He realized Ranger and Tank were wired and that he and Lester were going to be able to hear their conversation.

"Ranger! That you, man? I ain't seen you in a long time."

"You're not seeing me now, Afonso. You working on a Honda there? Times must he hard. You were a little more … upscale when I dealt with you."

"Times are a little hard now, man. Yeah, yeah, they sure are. What can I do ya for?"

"I need some information."

"Uh, I don't know. I mean I don't know too much about nuthin," Afonso stuttered.

"You know Jackson Bomba?" The hesitation was obvious even to Connor and Lester sitting almost a block away.

"Sure, I do. Me and Jax go way back."

"How far back?"

"When we was kids, man. And we used to work together before we went into business for ourselves. You need something? I can probably help you better than Jax. He just sells parts these days. I can get you what you need, man."

"I need Jackson Bomba."

"Jackson ain't here. He had business out of town. He told me he was closing his shop for a couple of days. You don't need Jax, man. I can fix you up."

"Is he the owner of Wilson's Automotive?"

"Yeah, he bought it when old man Wilson died, but he never changed the name. Jackson can't help you, Ranger. He's gone, but, man, I can do business with ya."

"Sorry, Afonso. I need Jackson Bomba. Who does he hang around with?"

Afonso snorted. "He don't hang around with nobody. We have a beer occasionally, but we don't see none of the old gang anymore. He don't have any family left." Afonso shrugged. "You sure we can't do business?"

"I don't have business with you, and if it gets out I was here talking to you, you won't have business with anyone. You understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, man. Sure I do."

"One more thing, Afonso. Get off the meth. It'll kill you."

Lester's chuckle drew Connor's attention from what they'd been listening to. "Sometimes I forget how scary the boss man can be. He's a master."

The doors to the SUV opened before Connor could comment. He agreed with Lester that Ranger had been scary. It wasn't what he'd said to the Afonso guy as much as how he'd said it. The nervousness of the man had been apparent, even when hearing his voice muffled through Ranger's wire. Tank had been silent, but maybe he'd been part of the reason Afonso had been nervous. Tank was a scary looking guy.

"He knows something," Tank said as they pulled out into the street.

"He does," Ranger agreed. "I saw the light in his eyes when he figured out whatever Bomba was up to it had something to do with me, and he was worried."

"Afonso knows you pretty well then?"

"He knows my old street rep," Ranger said. "In this case, if he's involved he needs to be more than worried."

"Where to now?" Tank asked.

"You've got Bomba's residence?"

"Yeah, it's not that far away. You want to pay him a home visit?"

"I do. I doubt Julie's there. Bomba would be a fool to take her to his residence, but we have to check out all leads."

The sound of a phone ringing was followed immediately by Hal's voice. "It's him. Same number. We'll try for GPS coordinates. Stand by. Go ahead, Stephanie."

Stephanie's voice was clear, and if she was nervous she hid it well. Connor was impressed.

"Hello."

"Here are the steps to get your daughter back. Follow each one and she will be returned to you unharmed."

"Wait," Stephanie said. "I didn't know there'd be steps. I need to get something to write this down. And I want to talk to Julie."

"You make no demands from me. You will not talk to her." There was only a slight pause. "The ransom is one million dollars in non-sequential one-hundred dollar bills. You will place the money in a Zero-Halliburton aluminum briefcase. The combination lock will be set to 1-2-3."

"Wait," Stephanie said. "You're going too fast. I can't get all of this down."

"Get all of it, bitch. I won't repeat. And if it's not done perfectly, you won't see your daughter again. You have until 9:00 a.m. I'll call in the morning to give you the drop-off location."

A dial tone filled the inside of the van. The weirdly electronic voice had disconnected. This guy, Bomba, was not a professional. And that's what scared Ranger the most. Amateur equaled unpredictable in his experience.

They could still hear Stephanie. "Did you get a location?" she asked and then without waiting for an answer, "Ranger?"

"I'm with you, Babe. We found nothing at the auto parts store."

"Oh, God!" she uttered, her voice faltering.

"We're on our way back. We need to get started on the demands."

"Can we do that?" Stephanie asked. "A million dollars, by tomorrow morning?"

"We can do it. The hardest part will be finding the case he wanted. But we can do it. Tank, let's head home. I'll go visit the Bomba home a little later tonight."


	39. Chapter 39

**CHAPTER 39**

 **Present Day New Jersey**

Thirty minutes later they were all standing back in the foyer of the Bat Cave. Ranger turned to Connor. "There's nothing more that can be done tonight. I'd appreciate it if you didn't leave the house without escort until we get Julie back. I don't think you're in danger, but if Bomba is only after cash, you could be a target."

That was something Connor hadn't considered. "I can handle myself," he stated. Ranger gave him a look and Connor responded, "I won't go anywhere alone, but I'd like to continue to be part of whatever is going to happen next. Maybe you could use me for bait."

"You'd do that?" Ranger asked, looking intently at his son. "Put yourself in danger to help Julie?" Connor nodded, his expression as serious as Ranger had ever seen it. "Hopefully it won't come to that, but I appreciate it," Ranger said. "Santos, I need you to keep an eye on Afonso. Maybe take a team with you and see if you can figure out what it is he knows. I think Afonso might have an idea of what Bomba is up to. I need you back here early in the morning. I want you to be the one to make the drop. Are you good with that?"

"Of course."

"And we're getting him the money?" Tank asked. "You don't want a dummy case to drop?"

"I'll get Bomba," Ranger stated, with an edge to his voice. "But I'm going to play his game exactly. There is no price too great for my daughter's life. You know how to access the cash?"

The question seemed to be a formality, because it was obvious by Tank's expression that he did. "Get it exactly as he said," Ranger continued. "And find a fucking Zero Halliburton case. What he wants with a thousand-dollar metal box is beyond me."

"They're RDIF blocking cases," Tank said. "If you wanted to put a tracker in with the money, the case would block the signal."

"True," Ranger said. "Maybe the asshole is smarter than I'm giving him credit for."

He turned to Hal and the team that had been monitoring the call. "Do you have the particulars on Bomba?"

"Yeah, boss. Here's the file." Hal handed Ranger a tablet. "It lists his properties and assets, his personal and professional history. No family living that I could find."

Ranger grabbed the tablet and looked across the room to meet the gaze of his wife, whom he hadn't greeted properly since his return. "Come with me, Babe." He held out his hand and she came across the room and took it. "Let's look at this together. I value your input. Maybe you'll see something I won't." They walked together into the great room and sat next to one another on the sofa. Ella appeared before them and set two bottles of water, along with a plate of warm oatmeal and raisin cookies, on the low table in front of them.

He took the water and watched as Stephanie popped an entire cookie into her mouth. It was a dire situation, one in which he shouldn't be able to find any humor, but he couldn't help himself. He smiled at the sight of her cheeks puffed out around the cookie, and he realized this unbearable situation was bearable, because she was with him. He hadn't expected a warm welcome when he got home, but he also hadn't expected to be thrust into a kidnapping scenario involving his daughter. The problems he'd planned on dealing with had to be set aside while he dealt with this current one, and he was grateful Stephanie was of the same mind. They _had_ to find Julie!

He looked around his space. It was clean and put back together since he'd seen it last. No thanks to him. Stephanie had taken it upon herself to clean up what was his responsibility. He owed so much to her. But apologies would have to wait. He could see his core team huddled together. Connor was talking to Lester who seemed to accept the boy's presence. That was good. Connor would be safe with Lester, and Ranger understood he probably had a need to do something. Tank was getting ready to leave to accomplish the impossible. And Hal and the others were figuring out a schedule so not all of them would have to wait for the next phone call.

Ranger put his arm around Stephanie and pulled her in close. "A little deja vu, Babe. You up for this?"

"Now that you're home, I am. Are you OK?"

Ranger nodded. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"We can talk about that later, once we get Julie back safe and sound." She leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. Ranger pulled her in and held the kiss a little longer.

Then they sat back on the couch and put their heads together to look at the report on Jackson Bomba. It was a work history, a list of his creditors—several, a list of his assets—minimal, and a list of properties that belonged to him. There were two. His shop and a house.

"It looks like he was fired from almost every job he's had," Stephanie said. "I wonder where he got the capital to buy his shop."

Ranger pointed a finger down the list a little. "Here's where Vinnie bonded him out. The charges were eventually dropped, but he was charged with armed robbery. He probably stole the money."

"Just like he's planning on stealing ours," she said.

"He was fired from a job at Liberty Welding. They do a lot of welding for ships that dock at Newark," Ranger said. "Afonso said he used to work with him, and since he was wearing a welding visor when I spoke with him earlier tonight, I'm betting that's where they worked together. I'm counting on Lester getting some good intel out of that little weasel."

"What are you going to do?" Stephanie asked.

"I'm going to pay the Bomba home a visit," Ranger said.

"I'm going with you," she stated in a voice that brooked no argument. "Breaking and entering, just like the good ole days."

"I enter," Ranger said, "but I never break. If you're going, be dressed in black and be ready in five." He leaned in to kiss her, but she'd already jumped up from the sofa and was heading for the stairs.

Before they stopped at Jackson Bomba's house, they took another run by the auto parts store. The store was dark, but Ranger slipped in again, finding nothing new. All other shops in the area were also closed, except for the 7-Eleven. The two proceeded to Bomba's house which wasn't far from the shop. Bomba lived in a small two-story house in the Ironbound section of Newark. There were no yards, just house after house crammed together and separated by thin strips of grass, weeds or sometimes dirt. The neighborhood reminded Stephanie of the Burg in many ways. They'd parked a block away and made their way carefully down the dark street. It was past bedtime for most of the people, and many of the houses were dark, including Bomba's.

"How will we know if he's home?" Stephanie asked.

"This might give us a clue," Ranger said as he reached out to push the doorbell. When there was no answer he slipped his hand in his pocket and brought out a long narrow tool, and five seconds later they were standing in the foyer of Jackson Bomba's house.

"We're going to stick together," Ranger whispered to her. "If we get surprised by an unexpected visitor, it will be better if I know where you are."

"Thanks for letting me come with you," Stephanie whispered back. "I know you'd rather do this on your own, but I feel the need to help Julie. I can't believe this is happening..." Her voice trailed off and Ranger grabbed her hand.

"We all feel it, Babe. It's not going to end the way the last time did. I promise you that."

"Don't make promises you can't keep. Just the thought of..." She felt his lips on her forehead and exhaled deeply, willing that dark thought away. Now was not the time to lose it.

They made their way methodically through the house. Knowing that Jackson Bomba was an overweight, greasy looking guy, Stephanie was surprised to find his house relatively clean. His closet was almost empty. Either the man had a skimpy wardrobe or he was making plans to leave.

Ranger said, "We've been inside for seven minutes and that's the magic number. We need to leave. It's obvious he hasn't had Julie here." They were standing in the dining room and Ranger made one quick sweep with his flashlight before they left. Something caught Stephanie's eye and she moved quickly to the table that held the landline phone. She ripped the top two pieces of paper off the pad that was next to the phone. She stuffed them along with the pencil that was lying next to the pad into her pocket.

"Babe?"

"I don't know. I just thought I should take them."

They were standing in front of the SUV when a car turned onto the street. Ranger immediately bent his head and kissed her. When they parted she was breathless.

"I missed you," she said, her hands gripping the front of his jacket. "I guess you missed me, too?"

"I did, but I kissed you so that car wouldn't get a look at either one of us. It was probably nothing, but I didn't want to take a chance. Now get in and buckle up."

So much for romance, she sighed to herself. She did as he said, but she stopped to pull the paper and pencil from her pocket before she sat. By the time Ranger was in the driver's seat she was busy running the length of the pencil lead on its side over the paper.

"What are you doing?"

"Probably nothing," she said. "But ever since I got Dickie's offshore account number at his house by doing this, I always take the paper to see if I can find a clue. And I did! Maybe. Turn on the light."

"Not until we get several blocks away," Ranger said.

She continued her work and held the paper close to the dash lights to see what was imprinted on the paper. Someone, probably Bomba, had scrawled something with a heavy hand. She could feel the ridges on the paper and thanks to her shading job, she could make out some letters.

"It's two words, I think," Stephanie said. "It's a clue, I know it! The first word looks like... _tremor_. I can't tell, he might have misspelled it because it looks more like _temor_. It's hard to see."

"Temor means fear in Spanish and in Portuguese," Ranger told her.

She held the paper closer to her face and squinted, "I'm not sure. That jerk has lousy penmanship. The second word looks like _Lest_ or...maybe _Lester_. Does he know Lester? Tremor Lester? Fear Lester? Or maybe it was just the start of a sentence. Damn, maybe it isn't even a clue at all. "

Ranger looked behind him and then quickly pulled over. They were in another residential area of Newark, this one a little more upscale than the one they'd just been in.

"Let me see that," he said and she handed him the paper. He looked at her scribbles, grinned, and then dropped the paper. With a quick glance around, he unclicked his seat belt and reached across to unclick hers. The ignition turned off and there was a series of beeps.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I took us off the RangeMan monitoring grid," he said. "Babe, you're a genius."

"Why? You understand those scribbles? You understand a _tremoring Lester_?"

"I do." He slid to the middle of the seat and pulled her onto his lap. His kiss was a serious one, and it made her forget everything for the moment. Even Julie. His hands were under her black t-shirt and when they slid under her bra and found her nipples she groaned.

"Ranger, we can't. Not in the SUV."

"Babe, we can, and I'm not waiting. I need you, _now_." He kissed her again and she thought that maybe they could. But still, when Julie was missing…

"Ranger, we…" He pulled roughly at the front of his pants lowering them enough that she could see he meant business, and the last doubts she had left. She let him lower her to the seat and even the seatbelt latch poking her in the backside was no deterrent. She kicked a leg up meaning to wrap it around Ranger and he grunted as her knee connected with his solar plexus. He slid her leg around him and for a few minutes they forgot all about Julie, the man down the street putting the trash can on the curb, and the occasional car that passed.

Fifteen minutes later when they were mostly put back together and on their way back home she found her voice once more. "I can't believe we did that!" she said. "We made love when Julie is missing!" She felt guilty.

"Did you not enjoy it?" Ranger asked her.

She felt herself blushing. "You know I did! It's just, for Pete's sake, we were almost in public, and our daughter is in danger."

"Our daughter! I like that, Babe. As for this..." he gestured outside, "We're in a neighborhood I'm familiar with. It's a safe place, and … I needed you, Babe. I needed... us. I know I have a lot to explain to you, to make up to you, but we've been apart for days. The last time we were together was before... before that FUBAR party." He reached out and caressed her jaw. "Nothing we did put Julie in any more jeopardy."

That silenced her completely. He'd slid that "I needed you" into the middle of his sentence, but for her it _was_ the sentence. Ranger needed her. Well, she needed him, too. The anger she had at him for leaving her with Connor had evaporated the minute she'd learned of Julie's kidnapping. There was nothing like a crisis to remind a person of what was important in life. She knew the subject wasn't closed, but now was not the time to get into all of that.

"This isn't how I imagined my homecoming," Ranger said. "I won't apologize for needing, for wanting you in the face of Julie's kidnapping. If something happens to Julie, God forbid, I know I can get through it because I have you. We'll get her back," the tone of his voice was as sure and confident as it ever was, "...and then you and I are going to have some time together, alone. And I'm going to get some counseling. I'm going to get my life, my temper, under control. It won't be the life I planned, but it will be the life I have. One I intend to unwrap each day and live to its fullest." He smiled to himself as if remembering something. He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. "I can live with that if you can."

"I can live with anything, Ranger. As long as I have you."

Ranger smiled at her, the full two-hundred watts. "I'm going to pull the trackers back up. There is the possibility that what we say could be monitored at RangeMan. It probably won't be, but I wanted to make you aware of that possibility, and of one other thing. There is something you're going to want to fix before we get home."

"What?" Stephanie asked.

"Your … uh …underwear is on your head."

"What!" Stephanie reached up to the voluminous mass of curls and plucked her black thong out of the mess. She thought her cheeks would light up the interior of the car. "Well, I couldn't find this," she waved the thong at him, "so I just put my jeans on without it."

"Commando, Babe? That's daring. Better hope the guys don't notice when we get home."

Stephanie swung around in her seat and grabbed Ranger's arm. "Trackers! Did you have a tracker on Julie?"

Ranger sighed. "I have one on her black purse, but she hasn't been wearing that awful Goth getup lately. I gave her a watch, but I noticed she rarely wears it. I haven't found something that she will wear consistently. So, no. No tracker."

He sighed again and she looked across at him. He looked exhausted, and something else, that she was pretty sure was worry. When they got back home and around a contingent of RangeMen she knew his blank face would be back on. But looking at him now she sensed a vulnerability. He'd had a difficult few weeks and she could only imagine what he'd been through, or put himself through the last few days. And then to come home to Julie being kidnapped. He may be Batman, but he was only human, she mused.

"I love you, Ranger. We're going to get this scumbag and rescue Julie."

"We are, Babe, but it's going to be a long night until the asshole calls with instructions."


	40. Chapter 40

**CHAPTER 40**

 **Present Day New Jersey**

Julie couldn't believe she'd slept. She'd been sitting with her back against the cold tile wall, her legs extended. Sometime during the night she'd dozed off and leaned into the corner. She thought it was probably morning judging by the rumble of her stomach. She wondered if Mr. Bomba would bring her more food today. There was no window, no real way to judge the time.

She looked at the door across the small room. If she straightened out her legs, her feet would touch it. With a start, she realized, it was wooden. It could be broken. Her legs were strong, and even though she hadn't been able to take down her captor, she might be able to take down the door. Especially if she kicked near the lock. But that would make noise. She began to plan.

….

The call, when it came was almost anti-climactic. Tank's arrival at 8:00 a.m. had been the highpoint of the morning so far. He carried a metal case with a combination lock. It was a Zero-Halliburton.

"The combination is set to open to 1-2-3," he said. "And the money is inside."

Lester picked up the case and hefted it. "So, this is what a million dollars feels like."

"It's what my daughter's safety feels like," Ranger told him. "You're good with being the delivery man?'

"Looking forward to it. Even though we don't know the location yet, I'm betting you've got a plan."

"I do," Ranger said. The group huddled around Ranger and listened intently.

The phone rang and silence fell over the room. Ranger nodded to Hal, who was wearing headphones. As soon as Hal nodded back, Ranger pointed his finger at Stephanie. After taking a deep breath, she answered.

"Hello."

"You got the money?"

"Yes. It's just as you requested."

"Is this Stephanie Mañoso?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes and bit off the retort she wanted to make. Aggravating this man wouldn't do anyone any good. "Yes, this is Stephanie."

"You, and you alone, will drop off the case. Newark Docks. Pier 3. Go all the way to the end of the pier. There will be a metal trash can. Open the lid, drop the case in and if you want to live, run like hell as far away from the can as you can get. Come alone. No cops, no backup. No one else. Just you. If I see anyone else, the deal's off. Make the drop at 10:00 a.m. on the dot. No earlier, no later. Do you understand?"

Stephanie looked across the room at a very grim Ranger. He nodded his head. "I understand," she said, "but what about Julie. How do we even know Julie is alive? I want to talk to her. Put her on the phone."

"She's fine. She's in a safe place, but she ain't here so you can't talk to her. Once I got the money and it's all counted, then you'll get a call with her location. So, when you make the drop you run straight back home and wait for my call. No cops. You understand?"

"Yes, but..." she said, but she was speaking to a dead line. The caller was already gone.

Everyone in the room was startled when Ranger's fist crashed into the wall. Stephanie's first thought was that the room hadn't been painted yet after the drywall repairs from Connor's party, so this would be easy to fix. Her second thought was he'd probably broken his hand. His anger, while better, was still not completely under control.

"I'm sorry, Ranger. He wouldn't let me talk to her."

"It's all right, Babe. You tried."

"I'm sorry, too, Ranger," Lester told him. "I was prepared to go."

Ranger shook his head. "It's beyond our control. The bastard can't be content with taking my daughter, he has to jeopardize my wife, too." His eyes met Stephanie's and she knew he was remembering the time Scrog had put her in danger.

"This is different from the last time, Ranger," she said. "This man's not crazy. He's greedy. And we're doing everything he says. I'll be fine."

Ranger nodded in response. He rubbed the hand he had just put through the wall. He looked at Lester. "Afonso?" he asked.

"Dude disappeared," Lester said. "We went back to his shop and searched it. He left an old Honda, mid-chop. He's scared, probably of you, and he's gone to ground. I paid his old lady a visit. Had a beer with her. She said she hadn't heard from him and figured he wasn't coming home soon. I guess he stays away for days at a time. She wasn't worried about it."

"I'd hoped to scare him into talking," Ranger said. "I should have stayed and beat whatever information he has out of him."

"Not too late to give that a try," Lester said. "Since I'm not your drop man, you care if I go back by his place? I'd like to be there when he shows up."

"Good idea," Ranger said. "Go with it." He took a good look at his wife. Her hair was contained in a bushy ponytail. She was wearing jeans, Nikes and a blue t-shirt. He looked at his watch. "Put Kevlar on her and then let's go. Get two teams down there now and tell them to be invisible. We can't spook him. I want her covered as much of the way down the dock and back as we can. And make sure every exit is covered." The men started to disperse until Ranger held up his hand. "Get another team on a boat. Just in case."

….

The zip tie around her wrists was tight and uncomfortable. She needed to get it off. It came to her in a flash. She remembered seeing a video on YouTube. All she needed to do was thread her shoelace through the zip tie and then retie her laces. She could saw the laces back and forth and she'd be free. Her elation was short-lived. She'd worn her TOMS to school yesterday. No laces. There'd been another video though, one that didn't require laces. Unfortunately, her phone was MIA from her back pocket. She'd realized that almost immediately when she came to yesterday.

She tried hard to remember the video. If she did it wrong she would just try again, until she did it right. She twisted the zip tie until the lock was centered between her wrists, and then counter-intuitively she used her mouth to pull on the tie, tightening it only one more click, but making sure it was as taut as possible around her wrists. She raised her arms above her head in the small room and pressed her back against the wall to make sure she'd have enough clearance. She threw her elbows out and smashed her hands into her abdomen with such force that her air rushed out in a whoosh. She felt the pop and looked down to see the zip tie fall from her wrists and hit the floor. She was astonished, elated, and in pain. A fine red line of raw skin encircled both wrists. The freedom of her hands had come at a cost.

Now for the door. She inspected her canvas slip-ons and wished she had worn her boots. She'd have to work with what she had. She kicked out at the door, next to the old black knob. The door rattled but didn't give way. The sound had been loud and it had echoed. The room outside must be empty. She kicked again, and again … and again. The blows were taking a toll on her feet. She wished, again, that she was wearing boots. Not about to give up, even if she broke the bones in her feet, she kicked again. In tears, she reared back and kicked out at the door as hard as she could, but the door, while it rattled, held firm. And then in frustration, because the door wasn't giving way, she threw her whole body into the door. To her great surprise, the door flung open and she fell out into a small room. She was so shocked that she sat on the floor for a moment.

There was light in this room and it was coming from what appeared to be a much bigger room. Julie got to her feet and ran from the small room. The large room was empty, mostly. There was a portable cot against the wall and what looked like a toolbox on the floor near the front. There was a small door in the back, the one that Mr. Bomba had pulled her through. In the front, there was a door and a wide display window. She looked out and recognized the area, but didn't see any people. She went to the back of the room and looked through the window. The alley was empty. She tried the door and it was locked. She hadn't wanted to exit into the alley in any case. It would be safer to go out front where there might be people.

She ran back to the front to find that door was also locked. She didn't hesitate. She picked up the hammer and standing back far enough that she wouldn't get cut by flying glass, she threw it through the window. The resulting hole was impressive, but not big enough for her to get safely through. The only other thing was the tool box and she hoped no one was on the sidewalk, because she picked it up and heaved it with all her might. The entire glass shattered and she wasted no time slipping through.

She'd made a lot of noise, but there was no one to notice. She looked to the left and then to the right. The 7-Eleven was her best bet. She needed to call her dad. She ran toward the 7-Eleven and noticed that each step jarred her bruised jaw. She wondered for the first time what she looked like. There was a young guy, probably close to her age, exiting the store.

"Hey," she said. She put her hand on his arm. "I need help. I've been held in that building down there by a really bad guy. He hurt me and I need to call for help. Can I use your phone?"

"Uh..." The guy looked confused, but when Julie said, "Please," he handed over his phone.

As Julie looked down at the screen, she realized she didn't remember her dad's number. She searched for RangeMan and when the number came up she called. She didn't recognize the voice that answered, but she was hoping he'd recognize her.

"RangeMan, may I help you?"

"This is Julie Marti …Mañoso. I've been kidnapped and I need to talk to my dad."

"Are you safe?"

"Yes, I think so, but I need my dad."

"Hold on, Julie." There was a short pause.

"Julie, are you all right?" It was her father's voice and it was the most beautiful voice she'd ever heard.

"Dad! Yes, I'm okay. Jackson Bomba kidnapped me and I got away. Come get me quick. I'm at the 7-Eleven by his shop. Come quick. I'm afraid he'll come back."

"Stay on the phone with me," Ranger said. "Lester is in that neighborhood right now. He may be in the same block. I'm getting word to him to come to you. But don't get off the phone until Lester is there. You understand?"

"I don't know. I just borrowed this guy's phone. I think he wants it back."

"Stay on the line. Tell him I'll buy him a new phone. The best there is. Just stay on the line …"

"Dad, I'm sorry..."

"Julie..." Ranger started, "are you sure you're okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm okay, Dad, just scared... and mad."

"That makes two of us."

"I see Lester," Julie cried. The relief was evident in her voice. "He sees me. He's stopping. I'm going to hang up now."

"All right, baby. I love you."

"I love you too, Dad." She disconnected and handed the phone back to the astonished young man. And then she ran to Lester and jumped into his arms.

"You were right!" she said. "I wasn't ready for a real attack. I tried to protect myself, but he got around me. He hit me so hard he knocked me out."

Lester held her back at arm's length. He looked at her swollen and bruised jaw. "Jackson Bomba did this to you?" he growled. She nodded and tears, which had been held back for so long, slid from her eyes. Lester ran his fingers softly over the bruised area. "Did he... did he do anything else to you? Did he hurt you anywhere else?"

She shook her head. "No. He locked me in a bathroom." She pointed to the vacant store with the shattered front window. "I freed myself and busted out the window."

"Good girl!" Lester gently held her hands, staring at the raw spots on her wrists. "Julie, I give you my word. Next time, you'll be completely ready to defend yourself. I'll work with you until you are. And sweetie, you never have to be afraid of Jackson Bomba again. I give you my word on that, too. Jackson Bomba will never hurt you again. Never ever."

Lester punched a number on his phone screen. "I've got her. She's okay. I'm bringing her home." He secured Julie in his vehicle and quickly entered the vacant store. After checking it out, he returned to the vehicle and drove Julie home.

….

Stephanie tried to look casual as she walked toward the end of the pier. Not too fast, Ranger had said, and not too slow. She could see the trash can. It seemed out of place sitting alone away from any bench. It was shiny and she thought it might have been placed there just for this purpose. That was good. There might not be any trash in it. An old-fashioned metal trash can and she was to put the metal case into the can. She wondered if Jackson Bomba had some strange thing for metal. Her directions were to walk to the trash can, lift the lid and drop the case in, and then Ranger had told her she was to run like the hounds of hell were after her, back to the safety of the RangeMan SUV.

She was only a few feet away. She lifted the lid and dropped the case in and then heard thundering footsteps, more than one set. She replaced the lid and started running. Ranger and Tank were running full-out toward her. Something must have gone wrong.

When she met them twenty-five yards up the pier, Ranger grabbed her briefly and, in a rush, said, "Lester's got Julie. She's safe. Get back to the SUV. Tank and I are going to get the case."

"But you can't!" Stephanie said. "He might have someone with a gun watching. You'll be a target!"

"If he shoots then we'll know where the bastard's hiding, and we'll get him. Now go!" Ranger shoved her toward the SUV and she took off again, running as fast as she could.

It took Ranger and Tank only seconds to reach the can. Tank pulled off the lid and reached inside, and then went completely still. He motioned to Ranger who came beside him and looked into the can.

"What the fuck?" There was no case. The bottom of the can was hinged and they could see it flapping in the breeze beneath the pier. And they could see water. The case had been dropped into the Passaic River.

"He had to have some way of retrieving it," Ranger said, as both men looked around the pier and the surrounding river. "Keep the units here. He has to show up eventually."

"You think he's somehow got it hidden beneath the water?" Tank asked, taking a closer look at the can's unusual mechanism.

"He has to," Ranger said. "It's not like he swam up and got it. It's too cold and where would he go? Just in case, have the guys in the boat keep a sharp lookout. And have the other two teams scour this pier, every exit, every boat."

Fifty yards out and fifteen feet beneath the surface of the murky water, Jackson Bomba thanked his lucky stars. The wetsuit had been tight, but he'd gotten it on. It had been a while since he'd done any underwater welding and he'd put on some weight. But he'd squeezed himself in, zipped the damn thing, and if he had to cut it off when he surfaced, then so be it. His work would be done by then. And the payoff was a million fucking dollars! He was cold, but what was a little discomfort. He clutched the case to his chest and kept swimming.

Later, when they were gathered at their home, Julie, Connor, Stephanie and Ranger discussed the events of the day.

"Connor did a good job of detecting," Ranger told Julie, as she snuggled under his arm. "He figured out that it was Bomba right away."

"How did you figure that out?" Julie asked.

"I called Tia," Connor said. "I kind of played her, but I got the information from her about your meeting with an old friend of my mother's. She's an alright kid. Maybe I'll take her to the movies sometime."

"Hah!" Julie said. "You're still grounded. You won't be taking anyone anywhere for a long time."

"We might be able to mitigate the terms of the grounding," Ranger conceded. "Connor deserves some reward for what he's done in the last 24 hours." He smiled at his son and his son smiled back, a first.

"Maybe you should ground me," Julie said as she looked up at her dad. "I was really stupid to get caught by Mr. Bomba. I should have known better. Next time I will."

Stephanie shuddered. "No. There won't be a next time, please God."

"Oh, there won't be," Julie assured her. "Lester and I are going to double up on my training. I'm going to be prepared for anything."

Ranger's phone rang. He answered with his typical "yo" and walked out of the room to continue the conversation. When he came back in he was met with three pairs of expectant eyes.

"Did they get him?" Connor asked.

"No, but Lester finally found Afonso. He confessed to welding the trash can so that it had a swinging gate type of bottom. It seemed he and Bomba used to do underwater welding together, back in the day. Afonso said he had no idea Bomba had kidnapped Julie. He didn't know about that part of the plan. He knew Bomba was planning on getting some money but he swears that Bomba didn't share the entire story with him."

"Do you believe him?" Stephanie asked.

"Lester does," Ranger said. "That's why he let him live. That, and we will be watching him to see if Bomba contacts him. I don't think that will happen, though."

"Why not?" asked Connor.

"I don't think Bomba is planning on coming back to Jersey. But I have an idea of where he might be headed, thanks to a nice piece of detective work done by Stephanie. She found a clue at his house last night."

"I did?"

"You did, Babe. But it's one that will take a bit of research." He swung his gaze to Julie. "The important thing, though, is that you're safe, Julie, and you don't have to worry about Jackson Bomba. I promise you, he won't ever get near you, ever again."

"Do you think we'll get the money back?" Stephanie asked.

Ranger shrugged. "It doesn't matter. We got Julie back." Ranger's phone dinged an incoming text. He read it and then said to Julie, "It's your mother. She wants you to call as soon as possible."

"Does she know about this?" Julie asked.

"Yes," Ranger said. "I let her know after you were safe this morning. I'm sure she just wants to talk to you. Hear your voice."

"I'd like to hear her voice, too," Julie said. "I was wondering…"

"What?" Stephanie asked.

"Could I invite her for a visit. I'd like to see her. I sort of miss her."

"Of course, you can," Stephanie said. "And your brother and sister and Ron, too, if you like."

"Right now, just my mom, I think. I'm going to go call her. I hate to bring it up, but I don't have a phone."

"Use the landline in the kitchen. We'll get you a new phone tomorrow."

Julie left the room and went toward the kitchen.

Stephanie looked at Connor and Ranger who so closely resembled one another. They were talking in low tones, no doubt discussing some aspect of Bomba's escape. It warmed her heart to see them together without the animosity that usually permeated their conversations. She and Ranger still had a lot to discuss, but it was obvious from the little Ranger had said that he was aware of how wrong his behavior had been and that he had plans to get help with his anger issues. And that he wanted her to be a part of it.

She looked at the room, still a little under the weather from the party. She'd get everything straightened up and then Rachel would come for a visit. It would be fun having Julie's mother here. Probably. Maybe. Oh well, she could handle it. This mess was her life, and it was a good one.

 **TBC**


	41. Chapter 41

**CHAPTER 41**

 **Present Day Trenton**

Stephanie looked around the table, so beautifully set by Ella. This was their first Thanksgiving in the Bat Cave, and never in her wildest dreams could she have envisioned a scenario like the one that was about to happen. Ella had helped with the turkey. Well, the truth was Ella had prepared the entire meal … almost. She smiled at the thought of her pies.

She had asked her mother for help and her mother had responded with enthusiasm. It had taken Helen a while to accept that Stephanie's life wouldn't be that of a Burg wife, but Stephanie knew, she had finally accepted it. When Stephanie had called and asked for help, her mother had been delighted. At the end of the day, Stephanie had felt a little delighted, too. Careful tutelage from her grandmother and her mother had resulted in four beautiful pies. Two pumpkin, one pecan and an apple pie with a lattice-work crust. Okay, Grandma had helped a little with the crust, but the rest had been all her.

Tank was joining them for dinner, and he was bringing a date. Ranger knew who it was, but he was being mysterious. Stephanie had tried to do a little "undercover" work, but Ranger wouldn't spill the beans. She prayed he wasn't bringing Grace. There was already a place set at the table for Rachel, and she thought it would be too much if another of Ranger's ex-lovers showed up for the holiday meal. One ex-lover was okay, especially since she was Julie's mother … and come to think of it, Stephanie would have her own ex-lover at the table. Chase, Sylvia, and Eric would be joining them as well. It would be Eric's first trip from home other than his regular visits to the doctor. He was doing so well his doctor had allowed this outing and Stephanie was excited that Connor would have his uncle and cousin with him today.

She wasn't going to do anything hokey, like asking each guest to say something they were thankful for, because if she did that she might have to say what she was thankful for. She had so many blessings it would be hard to verbalize, and if she tried she would cry. Things weren't perfect, but they were good.

Perfect would have meant that Jax Bomba would have been caught. That the money, which Ranger seemed unconcerned about, would have been recovered. Her brow wrinkled at the thought of the trip itinerary she'd seen. The note scribbled on Jax's pad hadn't said Tremor Lester. It had said Timor-Leste, and Ranger had recognized that it was a destination. She'd seen the travel plans completely by accident when she'd opened Ranger's desk drawer, innocently looking for a pen. The date of travel was a little more than a week away, so it would be over soon. They'd gotten through the kidnapping with no injuries other than the bruising of Julie's jaw. She hoped the trip to Timor-Leste would go as smoothly.

She shook her head as if to erase that thought and reconsidered the present status quo. Connor and Julie had settled into life at the Bat Cave and they were working on their sibling relationship. Ranger was working at being a father, full-time, and like everything he did, he was giving it his all. She startled as the man she'd just been thinking about slid an arm around her waist.

"Oh! I didn't hear you come into the room," she said.

"I've been here for a while, watching you," he responded. "You always used to know when I was in the room. Now I can sneak up on you. Does that mean the 'new' is wearing off?"

Stephanie frowned. "No! Not for me. Is it wearing off for you?"

"Yes." He laughed and pulled her toward him. "You can lose that worried, surprised and pissed-off look, Babe. The new _is_ gone and it's replaced with something that is stronger than I knew existed. I love you."

She turned into his embrace and let him nuzzle her neck, mollified at his explanation. His lips found hers for a lingering kiss.

"Don't start something you can't finish," she warned him. "We'll have guests here in..." she paused to look at her wristwatch, "...in less than thirty minutes."

"That should be more than enough time," Ranger said as his hand found the edge of her sweater and slid underneath. She pulled away from him. "I mean it, Ranger. Now is not the time! Come into the kitchen. I have something to show you."

"I have something I'd like to show you, too," Ranger responded, leaning in to nuzzle her ear.

Stephanie playfully swatted his shoulder, then grabbed his hand. "C'mon. I want to show you my pies." She pulled him from the dining room, through the butler's pantry and into the kitchen. On the countertop were her four pies. "I made these," she told her husband. "Of course, I had a little help from Mom and Grandma."

"Very nice, Babe. It's a shame your family couldn't join us for the holiday. I imagine your mother would like to witness your guests sampling your culinary masterpieces."

"I know you're joking," she told him. "But it is sort of a shame they won't be here. Valerie got first dibs on them for Thanksgiving. Maybe next year. So, which of these culinary masterpieces are you going to try?"

"I don't see the kind of pie I truly enjoy on the counter, Babe."

Stephanie rolled her eyes, but before she could respond Ranger grabbed her by the waist and lifted her, setting her ass on the counter. "Now that's more like it," he said, leaning in for a kiss.

"Ranger, not here," Steph protested, "not out in the open."

He set her back on the ground and grabbed hold of her wrist, pulling her into the large walk-in pantry. He clicked the door shut behind them. "I do enjoy pie in the right circumstances," he said, "and these are the right circumstances."

"Ranger! We can't!" Stephanie said.

"Shhh!" he said. "This is a covert operation."

"But, Ella…" she broke off as his mouth covered hers and his hands worked the same miracle on her button-fly jeans that she'd seen them work on locked doors.

Twenty-five minutes later, a flush-cheeked Stephanie with a relaxed smile opened the door to her first guests. "Lula!" she exclaimed when she saw her friend standing next to Tank. "You're Tank's date? I had no idea you were seeing one another again."

"I ain't Tank's date," Lula said, holding her left hand in front of Stephanie's face. It took a minute for Stephanie's gaze to travel from the acrylic nails painted to resemble candy corn to see the large cushion-cut diamond sparkling on her ring finger. "I'm his fiancée," Lula continued. "An' since Tank an' Ranger are almost like brothers that means you and me are gonna be almost like sisters!"

"Holy cow! Congratulations!" Stephanie said, opening her arms to give Lula a big hug. She ushered them in and turned to Ranger. "You knew!" she said accusingly.

"Not about the engagement," Ranger said. "Just that they were seeing one another. I think we're going to have to break out the champagne for an after dinner congratulatory toast."

….

Stephanie sat alone at the table, one hand absently swirling the remaining champagne in her flute, the other resting gingerly on her abdomen. Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to sample all of her pies. She'd only had a sliver of the pumpkin and the apple, but the pecan had been a regulation-sized piece, complete with whipped cream. She might have a future at pie making, she thought. And despite Ranger's earlier comments, he'd eaten his pumpkin pie with apparent relish and a word of compliment for the pie-maker.

She was aware of activity in other areas of her home, but for the moment she was sitting and quietly reveling in the success of her first Thanksgiving dinner as Ranger's wife. Ranger, his father, Lester and Tank were in the family room watching the traditional Dallas Cowboys Thanksgiving Day game along with Chase and Eric. Connor and Julie, much to everyone's surprise had insisted on doing the after-dinner cleanup. They were still at it and having some fun doing it if the laughter from the kitchen was any indication. Ella had joined Sofia and Rachel in the living room and Sylvia was spending her time traipsing between the living room and the family room to check on Eric. She was over-protective where Eric was concerned and Stephanie couldn't blame her one bit. Louis was taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather and taking a walk to work off his dinner, and Lula had left for another dinner…one she'd be serving instead of eating.

Earlier, at the end of the meal, Ranger had excused himself only to return shortly with a magnum of Dom Perignon. "I've been holding this for a special occasion and today seems to be the day," he said. "We're going to drink a toast to Tank and Lula, on the occasion of their first public appearance as an engaged couple." Ranger had been generous with the champagne, even pouring a glass for Julie and Connor, and everyone drank to the happiness and health of the couple. Sylvia even let Eric take a minute sip from her flute.

After the toast, Lula had left. She'd made plans to help serve the Thanksgiving dinner at the community center on Stark Street, and in typical Lula fashion had explained to the table of assorted guests, "We serve the working girls and anyone else that wants a good meal. But we don't start serving until late in the afternoon because Stark Street don't come alive until late in the day. This is my third year doing it and I'm on the mashed potato station this year. It's a step up from keeping the glasses full of tea and water. That's what I did last year."

Stephanie wondered if Lula's bounty hunting days were nearing an end. She'd been diligently taking classes online and had the goal of someday being a social worker. Now that she and Tank were getting married maybe she could go to school full-time. Lula would make a difference in the world. She was already making one to the people of Stark Street by serving them Thanksgiving dinner. Stephanie felt a surge of pride in her friend, and it was followed by the thought of what she'd done to make a difference. Not much.

There was something niggling at her, something she thought maybe she could do that would make a difference, but before the thought could be completely formed, she buried it. This was _not_ the time.

Things were smoothing out with their new family, but they still had a ways to go. Ranger had been faithful with his visits to Dr. Fincher. Stephanie wasn't sure what was discussed, but the old Ranger, the one that was in control, was back. That didn't mean his kids never got under his skin, but he was handling his response. No more flying off the handle and walking out to leave her to deal with the situation. Ranger was really stepping up to the plate. And while all that was good, it still was _not_ the time.

As if thinking about him had conjured him up, Ranger spoke softly in her ear. "You okay, Babe?"

She tilted her head back and smiled at him. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just letting my pie digest. I'll go join the conversation with the girls in the living room soon."

He bent down and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "It's half-time so I'm getting some chips and beer for the guys."

"What? You're kidding! We just finished dinner a while ago."

"Not all of us had three pieces of pie," he said. "Tank and Dad want chips and beer."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "The kids are still cleaning up the dinner mess, and you guys are already eating again!"

Ranger looked toward the kitchen. "I don't know what they're doing," he said, "but they're not cleaning up. They've got their heads bent over Connor's phone. One can only wonder what they're looking at."

"We're looking at the Black Friday ads," Connor said as he and Julie came into the dining room.

"And some of the Black Friday sales start today." Julie said. "Lester said if you didn't mind he'd take Connor and me shopping."

"Today? On Thanksgiving?" Stephanie asked.

"Yeah," Julie said. "There are some really good deals this afternoon."

"I guess it would be okay for you to go. We're done with the family thing, the dinner, I mean," Stephanie said.

"That's great," Julie said. "I think my mom is going to go with us. I'll go tell Lester and then her that we're ready to go."

Connor and Julie walked from the room, and Stephanie had a moment's wonder. Ron had not accompanied Rachel to see Julie. That bothered both her and Ranger. She remembered Julie saying that her mom and Dad hadn't been getting along. Was Rachel interested in Lester? She looked up at her husband and saw the same speculation in his eyes. Life was never boring in the Bat Cave.

…

The weekend had passed in a blur of activities, including a Sunday night dinner at the Plum household. They'd reached the stage where her family was completely comfortable around Ranger. Stephanie's dad enjoyed conversing with Ranger, which Stephanie found humorous, as both were men of few words.

When they returned home from the Plum household it was to an empty house. There was a note on the counter from Connor telling them he was at Chase's house helping him rebuild a bike engine, and thought he'd spend the night.

"That's unusual, for him to stay over there when he has to go back to school in the morning," Stephanie said.

"It is a little unusual," Ranger agreed.

"Do you think you should check on him?" she asked.

"You mean call Chase and make sure he's there?"

"Yes."

Ranger considered for a moment and then said, "No. His behavior has been exemplary, recently. The trust has to start sometime and I'm starting it now." He bent to kiss her softly and then said, "Besides, Connor's smart enough to know how easily we can check up on him. If he was up to no good, he'd find an excuse that would be harder to verify."

"True," Stephanie said. "He's a smart guy, like his father. And his sister is a smart girl, also like her father."

"Speaking of his sister, it's quiet in the house. Where is she?" Ranger asked.

Stephanie's grin was wide. "In a strange twist of fate," she said, "Julie asked me if she could spend the night with Tia. She said Tia's mom would drop them off at school tomorrow." She watched as Ranger slowly raised one eyebrow. "That's right, Batman. We're home alone!"

"Let's not waste this opportunity," Ranger murmured as he moved in close to her.

Later, as they were lying next to one another, Stephanie shivered. Ranger pulled Stephanie in close to him and wrapped the covers around her. "It's nice, knowing we are completely alone here, isn't it?" Steph asked.

"It is. Did you want to check another room of lovemaking off the list?" Ranger asked. He nuzzled her neck, and spoke softly into her ear. "I'm up for it if you are," he teased, pressing his lower body into her and letting her know he wasn't altogether joking. "What about the laundry room. That has interesting possibilities."

She giggled. "The spin cycle has always intrigued me, but no, I don't think so. I'm pretty content right now."

"I am too," he said. "And it isn't as if this invasion of the long-lost children is permanent. In six months, Connor will be gone, and it will only be a few years after that before Julie is out in the world."

"True," Stephanie said. "Do you know Connor's plans?"

"I don't, and I haven't asked him," Ranger said. "I assume he'll go to college. He probably should be applying now. His grades are good and he's an intelligent kid."

"He is," Stephanie agreed. "And he's really bonding with some of the guys at work, Lester most notably. Maybe he will want to make his career at RangeMan."

"Maybe," Ranger said. "I think he'll have to fight Julie for control though. She's hell-bent on knocking me off the throne. She's pretty open about wanting to run RangeMan someday."

"She's young," Stephanie said. "She might change her mind, although she does seem to have inherited some of your skill set. She's a natural leader. It's not even been half of a school year and she's already taken a leadership position at school."

"Yeah, who'd have thought I'd ever have a daughter who was active on the student council. I was active in school, but not quite in the same way."

"I can imagine how you were active."

"You don't have to imagine, Babe. Connor is the proof of my activity."

"He's a great kid, Ranger. I'll be sorry to see him leave when school is out. I hope he understands that he's truly part of our family and comes back home from time to time."

"We're making good strides, he and I," Ranger said. "We're still careful around one another, and I'm not sure we'll ever have a typical father-son relationship, but we have the beginning of —something. It's a good something."

Stephanie sighed and then rolled over to face Ranger. "Do you think you'd ever want that father-son or father-daughter relationship from the beginning? I mean, is starting with your kids kind of in the middle enough for you, or do you want it all?"

"Are you asking if I want a child of our own?"

"Uhm," Stephanie hesitated. "I think I am. I think, maybe … well, I know it isn't the time. But, maybe in the future. Well," she ducked her head under the covers, suddenly afraid to continue. She didn't know when the desire had come upon her, but it was upon her. How would she feel if Ranger said no to children? She felt his fingers under her chin, gently lifting her head back out of the covers.

"Do you want to expand our family, Babe?"

She nodded and felt her eyes fill with tears. "I do," she said. "I mean, I know now is not the time, but maybe in the future…" She let her words dwindle, not sure at the expression in Ranger's eyes.

His arms came tightly around her. "I want that, too, Babe. I thought maybe dealing with my children would have turned you completely away from the idea. I'm glad it hasn't."

They held each other in silence for a while. "Are you sure?" he asked her. "When you were with Morelli you couldn't commit, and I know part of it was because he was so gung-ho to have a family."

"That's true," Stephanie said. "I didn't want to have a baby with Joe, and I still don't. I want to have a baby with you. I mean we've been through a lot and we still have Connor and Julie to deal with, but maybe, down the road a little…"

"In the future?" Ranger asked.

"Yes."

Ranger grabbed hold of the covers and yanked them back, eliciting a squeal from Stephanie. He rolled out of bed and reached across to lift her into his arms, cradling her like a baby.

"Ranger what are you doing? I'm naked … and cold."

"I see the naked," he said. "And if you give me a couple of minutes I'll cure the cold." He turned and started to walk out of their bedroom.

"Where are you going?" she asked and kicked her legs. "Put me down."

"Not yet," he said, tightening his grip. "You know the empty room next door? Don't you think it's meant to be a nursery?"

"I, uh, I guess," Stephanie said hesitantly.

"I think tonight would be a good night to christen it." He carried her across the threshold and let her naked body slide against his as he lowered her to the floor.

"So, now we're going to 'do it' here on the floor instead of next door in our soft warm bed?" she asked.

His hand ran up the inside of her thigh and she shivered. "If you're that cold we can go back to bed," he said.

"No." She slid her hand up the inside of his thigh. "That shiver wasn't about cold," she said with a small smile.

"Good, because the future starts now, Babe." And he set about making his words come true.

 **TBC**


	42. Chapter 42

**CHAPTER 42**

 **One Week Later**

The dark-skinned man dressed in a beige linen suit stepped off the plane in Dili. The warm tropical air enveloped him, as if welcoming him to paradise. He'd never been to this part of the world before and was glad for the opportunity, in spite of the task that had brought him here. From the flight in, he'd seen miles and miles of long sandy beaches, as well as steep mountains and beautiful rivers. Timor-Leste was a beautiful island, no doubt about it. And its historic roots were entrenched with Portugal. Jackson Bomba had chosen well. Just not well enough to hide all of his tracks.

He chuckled to himself. Leave it to Steph to find that one little clue that would lead them straight to their target. "Tremor Lester" was really Timor-Leste, a tiny tropical island south of Indonesia. It had been a colonial holding of Portugal for centuries, until it had secured its independence a few decades ago. Portuguese was still the official language though. A perfect retirement spot for one Jackson Bomba with a million dollars to spend. Though the scumbag wouldn't be dipping his greedy hands into that pot for much longer.

The man signed for the rental car and headed into town. He knew Bomba wasn't using his real name, but that hadn't stopped him from tracking the lowlife, once he knew his destination. Bomba had bought a villa overlooking the ocean just north of town at Cristo Rei Beach. For the price he'd paid, the man hoped it was an impressive mansion with great architecture and magnificent views. And he hoped the bastard was enjoying himself, as it would be his last night there.

After checking in to a hotel in Dili, he drove up the coastal road and scoped out the area. He located Bomba's villa and watched his target drunkenly stagger up from the beach bars and settle in for the night. It took all his control not to take care of the bastard right then and there.

Upon returning to town, the man drove down to the marina and rented a boat for the next day. Then he found a great restaurant overlooking the bay and ordered a five-course meal, featuring seafood caught fresh that morning. Might as well enjoy himself while he was here.

He indulged in a leisurely breakfast the next morning before heading out for the day. By the time he reached the marina, most boats had already left for a day of fishing. He'd be fishing too, but not for fish.

He stayed just off shore of Cristo Rei most of the morning, until he saw his target saunter down to one of the open air bars that abutted the beach. That was his cue. He pulled up anchor and motored in. Sliding his ass onto a barstool, he signaled the bartender for a couple of brews, then he turned to the man next to him, offering him one of the bottles.

"Como esta a pesca?" he asked. _[How is the fishing?]_

With a flourish, Bomba took a sip of his beer and replied, "Bom, se você sabe para onde ir." _[Good, if you know where to go.]_

"Estou procurando um guia," he said. "Posso pagar, e em mais de cerveja." _[I'm looking for a guide. I can pay, and in more than beer.]_

"Se você tem bastante cerveja, eu sou seu homem," Bomba grinned, downing the rest of the beer on one long swig. _[If you've got enough beer, I'm your man.]_

They shook hands and made their way down to the boat. After an afternoon of fishing and camaraderie, the men took their catch to one of the local restaurants and the chef prepared a great seafood dinner for them. At the end of the meal and a lengthy evening of drinking, the two men stumbled their way on foot up to Bomba's villa on the hill.

The next afternoon, the dark-skinned man entered the hotel bar, a duffel bag and a metal briefcase in tow. A Zero Halliburton, to be exact. Glancing around the room, he made his way to the bar sliding onto a stool next to an attractive young woman. He set his luggage next to his feet, noting that the briefcase was a couple of pounds lighter than it'd been the last time he'd hefted it. Oh well, that was to be expected.

At his nod, the bartender slid a bottle of beer his way. The TV was on over the bar and the local news was just starting. The anchorman was reporting the accidental drowning of a local man. It was noted that the dead man had recently moved to the island and had purchased a villa down Cristo Rei way. It seemed the man had indulged in too much alcohol and then, unfortunately, had used his hot tub. His cleaning lady had found him floating face down in the tub the next morning. It was reported as a local tragedy.

The man held his bottle of beer up in a solemn gesture and then took a long swig. "This one's for you, Julie. I always keep my promises." Satisfied, the dark-skinned man turned his attention to the attractive woman sitting next to him. She had long straight dark hair and deep brown eyes and an impressive curvy figure. She was talking to the bartender and they were speaking English, which made his next move easier. The man turned to the woman and flirted. "Come here often, Beautiful?"

She didn't even look at him when she responded, "You can do better than that."

"Ah, a challenge." He took a sip of beer and then said, "Smile, if you want to sleep with me."

She tried, but she couldn't stop the grin from forming.

He continued, "I'd advise you to surrender now, or I'll have to use the rest of my corny pickup lines."

Turning to face him, she asked, "Are you always this forward?"

"I can do it forward, backward, coming or going, but I prefer coming. How 'bout you?"

"You just don't quit, do you?" she laughed.

"I'm the Energizer Bunny. I can go on and on and on."

"That sounds promising, but what does it take to shut you up?"

"Put something delicious in my mouth." He looked her up and down, telling her, "I see a couple things I'd like to suck on."

"You're impossible," she said, shaking her head. She took a sip of her drink. "Are you in Timor-Leste for business or pleasure?"

"I was here on business, but that's over, so the rest of my stay is purely pleasure. And speaking of pleasure..."

"Stop! No more cheesy lines," she cried. She started walking toward the door, saying, "You had me at Beautiful."

Grinning, Lester stopped to pick up his bags and ran after her.

 **ALMOST THE END**

 _ **Just a couple of loose ends to wrap up**_


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N: There are still several loose ends to wrap up so we've decided to post twice today. Look for another chapter a little later in the day!**

 **LOOSE END #1**

"Carlos Mañoso," Ranger said, hitting the speakerphone.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Mañoso. Arturo Cárdenas here. I have good news to report," said the gentleman on the other end of the call.

"You were able to clear probate?" Ranger asked as he pulled a file from his bottom desk drawer.

"Yes. The government of Timor-Leste was most cooperative. Your suggestion that we donate a percentage of your friend's estate to the Portuguese Heritage Museum in Dili was well received. With his estate now out of the court's hands, we can proceed with the sale of the villa. I received an offer for seven percent over market value. The buyer has been approved for that amount. As the executor of your friend's last will and testament, I recommend you accept it."

"That's excellent news. Go ahead with the sale," Ranger said, opening the file and looking at a copy of the creatively crafted last will and testament of Bomba's alias. "With probate cleared and the villa soon to be sold, how long will it take before the remaining funds can be transferred to the foundation?"

"I'll need forty-five days to close escrow and handle the international transfers and filing. The foundation will receive the money by the first of the year."

"Good. I appreciate the speed in which you handled this matter," Ranger said. He also appreciated the flash of genius that had struck Lester. Before he'd left Timor-Leste, he'd had the foresight to leave a very authentic looking will for the police to come across during their investigation of the accidental drowning. Ranger would be out a large chunk of the million Bomba had gotten away with, but that money was now going to a worthy cause.

"I'm glad I could be of service," the man said, followed by a low chuckle. "The bonus of having an all-expenses-paid trip to Timor-Leste sweetened the deal." There was a pause before the man added, "I meant no disrespect to your deceased friend. I know this must be a difficult time for you. It was good of you to step up and take care of his last wishes. The donation to the WREN Foundation will benefit many disadvantaged youth in the Ironbound District, hopefully giving them the assistance they need to prevent them from joining those insidious and destructive youth gangs."

"It feels like coming full circle, as both my, _um_ , friend, and myself had firsthand experience with those gangs. The money will be well spent. Again, thank you for your assistance, Mr. Cárdenas. Please notify me when the final transaction is complete."

"Of course. Have a nice day, Mr. Mañoso."

Ranger disconnected the phone and closed the file, smiling to himself. With that loose end wrapped up, he dropped the file back into the bottom drawer of his desk, and decided to call it a day. He just needed to collect his wife and head home.

Home! That word had taken on such a heightened meaning this past year. The range of emotions he felt when he thought of going home to his wife, and his children, surprised him. For a man who never thought he'd have a home, much less a relationship that brought him such contentment, his current situation almost stopped him in his tracks when he allowed himself to think about it. His marriage had become more than he had ever expected, more than he could ever have imagined. How had he ever gotten by without her? Just the thought of Stephanie brought an upturn to his lips. And contemplating his future with her brought on the full 200-watt smile. He rose and strode to the door, eager to see her. He hadn't seen her since lunch and that was way too long.

...

"Thank you, Officer Kegan," Stephanie said, hanging up the phone. She let out a deep sigh as she leaned back in her chair. The outcome hadn't been what she wanted, but it was what she expected. Still, she was disappointed.

This was the last piece of the puzzle. It wasn't an expected part of what Chase Fields had asked her to do, but she hadn't felt right leaving this last question unanswered. Now, she had one more task to do before she could finally close out her file on Corrine Silva. One more trip to Ohio. She wasn't looking forward to it. How do you tell a mother that her only child is dead? Even if the mother may have known or suspected all along? It was the finality of it all.

Stephanie said a silent prayer that she would never know that particular pain. With another sigh, she began scooping up the papers and folders from her desk.

"Hey, Babe." Ranger appeared in the doorway of Steph's office. "Are you ready to call it a day? I'm looking forward to a nice quiet evening with you, at home."

She looked up, surprised it was so late. She'd been preoccupied and had lost track of time. "Give me just a minute," she told her husband.

At the look on her face, Ranger came into the office and around her desk. "What is it?" he asked, his hand reaching out and stroking the back of her neck.

She shrugged. "I don't why I'm so upset. I knew what I would find, but... it's still hard."

"What, Babe?"

"René Oliveiras," Steph said. "She's dead."

It took Ranger a moment to process the name. "You mean the real René Oliveiras? The one that ran away from her home in Kipton and was never heard from again?"

"Uh-huh," she replied. "Mary Oliveiras' daughter. The one that Corrine pretended to be. I just got confirmation that she died twenty-nine years ago."

"You were able to track her down?"

"It wasn't easy, but I used the Jane Doe database program. I asked Connor to get a picture of René from Mary. I've been working on it in my spare time. I just couldn't let it go."

Ranger smiled at his wife. That tenacity in her was one of the things that had first attracted him to her, all those years ago. "What did she die of? Drug overdose? Suicide?" Ranger queried.

"No," Steph said, surprise evident in her voice. "She died a hero."

Ranger's head tilted back and his brows furrowed. "How so?"

"It seems she made it all the way to California. Oakland." She gave her head a shake. "Oakland is one of the places I had planned to look for Corrine. It's a Portuguese stronghold." She blew out a breath. "René had been living in a flophouse with a bunch of other runaways. Most were drug addicts or were forced into prostitution to survive. According to the autopsy, René hadn't been doing drugs. No way to know about anything else in her life, though."

"Why was she a hero?"

"There was a fire at the flophouse. Over a dozen kids were killed. But more than two dozen got out, and it seems René is the reason. She kept going back in and hauling kids out, some she carried out on her back and some she pulled out by their arms. All the ones she was able to get out, survived. But, she went back in for one more and the building collapsed around her."

"I'm sorry, Babe. Why was her mother never notified?" Ranger asked.

"They didn't know who she was. She was just another lost runaway. I spent quite a bit of time on the phone with the officer in charge of the case. Officer Kegan. He was a rookie at the time, and he said it was one of the worst cases he'd ever had. All those burned bodies." Steph shook her head.

"So, she's been a Jane Doe all these years?"

"Yep. Officer Kegan said he had a forensics sketch artist make a drawing of her from her bones, and every few years, he would do a search for her identity. A few years ago, when the Jane Doe database was created nationwide, he submitted his sketch of her, but there were no hits... until I uploaded my photo of René." Stephanie gave Ranger a grim smile.

He pulled her up from the chair and wrapped his arms around her. "You found her! You persevered and you gave her back her name, her identity. You'll give her family closure."

"And Officer Kegan, too," Steph added. "He was very appreciative. He said this case has haunted him for nearly thirty years. Now, he can put it in the closed case file."

"And so can you," Ranger said.

Steph shook her head. "I have one more thing I need to do."

"One more thing _we_ need to do," Ranger amended. "I'll book the airline tickets to Ohio." He leaned down and kissed her. "Proud of you, Babe."

 _ **One more loose end to go...**_


	44. Chapter 44

_AN#1: At last look, we were humbled and excited to realize we'd popped over the 1000 review mark for this story. We try to respond to every reviewer so if you were missed, please know it was unintentional. To our guest reviewers: We want you to know we read every review and appreciate them._

 _One of the nice things about being the half of the writing duo that actually posts the chapters on fanfiction is that I get the chance to pen an unbeta'd note and let readers know what a joy it is to write with jago-ji. She has the courage to tell me when it stinks and the generosity to tell me when it's good, and I try and do the same for her. Thanks for the memories, friend! -Sonomom_

 **LOOSE END #2**

 **Ten Months Later**

A bead of sweat trickled down from his temple to his jaw and hung there, suspended. His fingers itched to flick it away, but he knew better than to break ranks. He'd relaxed his rigid stance once while in formation. The consequences of "getting smoked" by his drill sergeant had been so embarrassing, he'd determined never to do it again. He gritted his teeth and maintained his shoulders-back, knees-locked, ramrod-straight posture.

They'd been standing at attention for what seemed like hours. Actually, it had been less than ten minutes, but the heat and humidity were taking their toll on the perfectly straight lines of sweaty, steamy bodies. It was October in Georgia, and it could have been rainy and cold or hot and steamy. Hot and steamy had won out.

Connor could feel the men around him, breathing, tensing, exuding excess energy in need of release. There were hundreds of bodies in straight-line formation, decked out for the first time in their Dress Blues, all struggling to remain as still as possible, eyes forward, eagerly awaiting the next command, the command to march onto the parade grounds.

Today was Graduation Day! After completing a fourteen-week regime of grueling and demanding physical, mental and emotional challenges during basic training, Connor Madrid, along with several hundred other recruits, was now a soldier. A U.S. Army soldier.

Connor continued standing at attention, but let his mind wander. He flashed on the moment he'd stepped off the bus onto the Army base at Fort Benning three and a half months ago. A man in fatigues and a Smokey Bear hat had immediately begun yelling at him. He'd quickly learned that this obnoxiously rude, crude man would control every second of his life, day and night, for the next fourteen weeks. Basic training had begun and he'd just met his drill sergeant. The training had been worse then he'd ever imagined.

But Connor had survived all five phases of OSUT, One Station Unit Training. He'd successfully made it through the rigors of daily drills, calisthenics, marches, obstacle courses, hand-to-hand combat, chemical attacks, marksmanship, first aid, tactical and survival skills, as well as team building and leadership training.

He wouldn't have made it through any of it without his battle buddy, though. Even without looking, Connor could feel his buddy's presence looming over him. Connor was not a small man, but the man standing next to him was a behemoth, a big black Cajun behemoth. He and Frog had been paired up by their drill sergeant on their first day of basic training, and they'd been inseparable ever since.

Frog had a calming effect on Connor, who'd needed it to endure the many corrective actions and disciplines their platoon had been put through. When one recruit messed up, the rest of the platoon suffered the punishment right along with him. Their drill sergeant had encouraged them to "embrace the suck" and, together, they'd learned to accept their punishments with good humor.

Frog wasn't his real name, but Émile Pierroux hated his given name. He'd tried to get his buddies to call him Tahyo, which he said was Cajun for big dog, but the nickname never stuck. Self-chosen nicknames rarely do. However, Émile's French-Cajun accent came out strong when he got excited or angry, and that led to the guys calling him Frog. Bullfrog might be more appropriate, since he stood over six feet eight and topped the scales at three hundred pounds. But Frog it was.

Connor was startled out of his reverie by the sound of grenades exploding and guns firing, followed by billowing clouds of red, white and blue-colored smoke that drifted over the waiting platoons of soldiers. The battlefield demonstrations had started with the fire teams bursting through the multi-colored clouds onto the parade grounds. He pictured the hundreds of civilians that filled the bleachers as they witnessed the impressive display of an armed fire teams re-enacting a frontline combat scenario. After that demonstration, there was a hands-on description about the weapons the recruits had learned to use. Then the military band started playing the Army Caisson Song, "The Army Goes Rolling Along." That was the platoons' cue to begin marching up the hill.

Connor's platoon was the first to set foot on the parade grounds, and he could hear the audience cheering and clapping. As his platoon marched, he let his gaze glance over at the bleachers filled with friends and family of the graduating soldiers. He knew who was sitting in that audience for him and it surprised him that he felt such strong emotions about it. He was eager to march past that same audience in the Pass & Review ceremony that would culminate in his graduation, but nothing could fill him with as much pride and pleasure as what had happened yesterday at his Turning Blue ceremony.

Yesterday had been a quieter occasion without the demonstrations or marching band, but it had been a more emotional, a more personal experience. In front of his platoon and his family, Sergeant Major Carter had presented him with the company's marksmanship award, where he'd earned an impressive 40 out of 40. Other awards were presented and then, his DS announced the pinning of the Blue Cords. A braided blue cord on an Army uniform was a high honor and signified that a soldier had successfully completed all Infantry Training Brigade requirements.

All the men in his platoon had stood at attention, holding their blue cord out, as family members silently approached. The pinning was a solemn and short ceremony, with little time for conversation. A soldier could chose who would do their pinning. If no family member was present, a soldier had to stand alone until a drill sergeant was available to pin on their cords. No one wanted to stand alone.

Connor had known there would be someone there for him, but it still moved him to see Ranger step in front of him and take the blue cord from his hand. They locked eyes briefly, and Connor saw the pride reflected in Ranger's eyes as Ranger slipped the cord over his right arm and pinned it under his epaulet. The pinning was followed by a brief but firm handshake. A hug would have been too much, for either of the men. And then, without hesitation, Ranger stepped to the side to face Frog. He attached his buddy's cord as well. Frog didn't have any family so Ranger had agreed to fill in.

When Ranger stepped back, Stephanie moved in and gave Connor the hug his father didn't. Then it was Julie's turn. Last was Chase. The gratitude Connor felt nearly overwhelmed him. He couldn't help but think about what his future might have been if Stephanie hadn't found his mother a year and a half ago. He now understood his mother would have died no matter what, and he would have been left alone without family or resources. Now he had plenty of both. And, with additional gratitude, he watched as his family embraced Frog as one of their own.

That had been Turning Blue Day. Today was Graduation Day. After the Pass & Review, there were the usual motivational and congratulatory speeches, followed by more marching band music. At the very end, each drill sergeant looked at the graduated soldiers ready to be released and bellowed out for the final time, "Graduates, front leaning rest position." Each soldier dropped to the ground and counted off one last set of ten pushups.

The soldiers stood back up to thunderous clapping and joyous shouts from the mass of spectators now lining the parade field. Backs were soundly thumped and arms nearly jerked out of shoulders as the graduates congratulated each other with zealous handshakes and manly hugs. Connor was caught up in the enthusiastic embraces of his fellow soldiers until he felt a presence in back of him. He turned, and there he was.

Ranger. His father proudly smiled at him one minute and then wrapped him in a bear hug the next. It surprised him, the public display of affection. But he didn't hesitate to return it. He was too happy. He'd made it through the first step in following in his father's footsteps. Yep, his father. Ranger. Carlos Mañoso. He could finally say it and mean it, feel pride and pleasure in it. He felt honest gratitude to have had two great men help make him the man he was becoming.

And now, he was an Army soldier. Next was Airborne School, then the Ranger Assessment and Selection Program. And finally, Ranger School itself. The thought made him giddy. And he wouldn't be alone. His best friends, the ones who had got him through Basic, would be going through all of it with him. He felt like he was on top of the world.

"Welcome to the Army, soldier," Ranger said, a look of pleasure and pride on his face.

"Thanks. I made it through Basic," Connor said. "Now, on to Airborne School."

"That's a piece of cake. Wait until Ranger School."

"I'm looking forward to it. How hard can it be? You made it through," Connor teased.

Ranger let his hand swing up behind Connor and he gently smacked the back of his son's head before he stepped aside. There they were, the rest of his family. Less than a year ago, he'd denied they were his family. Now, they were his source of stability and contentment.

Stephanie threw her arms around him. "Congratulations, Connor. I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Stephanie." Connor suddenly drew back and looked down. Stephanie blushed and lowered her hand to cover her barely noticeable bump. Connor's jaw dropped. "Really?" he asked with a note of incredulity.

Julie stood in back of Steph, grinning. She'd known about the baby for days and had been bursting to say something. "Yes, really," Julie blurted out. "You're going to have another sibling riding your...camo-clad butt." She gave him a playful punch in the arm.

Steph nodded. "Ranger and I have been waiting until we were all together to make the announcement. So, _everyone_... Ranger and I are expecting!" She blushed again. "Well, I'm expecting. Ranger's anticipating."

Ranger came up behind her and wrapped his arms around his pregnant wife. "I'm anticipating simple congratulations. No off the wall jokes."

"You mean like, Steph's got a bun in the oven?" Lester smirked.

"Or, she's hiding a fugitive?" Bobby just had to chime in.

Lester blurted out, "I love this one: she's got a bat in the cave."

"Oh no, the rabbit died," Bobby cried.

"You just had to go and knock her up, huh?" Tank's upper lip twitched.

Lester's grin was nearly wider than his face as he said, "Hey, I've got the perfect one for you, Beautiful. You're eating for two now. But how will we know the difference?"

Steph leaned over and slugged Lester in the solar plexus for that dig.

Ranger held up his hand. "Enough. Today is Connor's day. Let's celebrate that."

After the hugs and words of congratulations for Ranger and Stephanie were over, Connor turned to Julie. She'd foregone the Goth look for a sleek knit sheath mini-dress in a teal blue. While the dress covered everything, it also hugged all of her curves. She'd paired it with her black stiletto ankle boots, which set off her long legs and shapely calves. She looked far older than her young fifteen years. Connor knew he was going to have to beat his fellow soldiers off with a pugil stick to keep her safe. And now, he thought, smiling to himself, thanks to his Army training he knew how to do that.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I guess the Army will take anybody," she grinned.

"Thanks for coming, squirt," Connor said. "I hear you're working directly for the boss man now. I hope he's not too tough on you."

Julie laughed. "Dad keeps me hopping, that's for sure. But if I plan to take over RangeMan someday, it's the best way to get the experience I'll need. I only work part time during school, but he's letting me work full-time over the holidays and the summer."

"You'll do great, Julie. I have all the faith in you."

"Thanks, Connor. That means a lot to me. And you, this is really what you want?"

The quick smile was reflected in his eyes. "Yeah, it is," he said. "This feels right. I've never been happier." Connor gave his sister a quick hug.

He looked over her shoulder to see his uncle. He held out his hand and, instead, was pulled into a hug by his Uncle Chase. When they stepped back, Connor asked about his young cousin. "Has Eric learned to ride his bicycle yet?"

Chase laughed. "Yeah, he wouldn't allow us to put on the training wheels. Said he could ride without them. And he did! He's catching up on all the things he missed when he was sick. He even started school this fall with his age class. He's doing great! And all because of your mother's generosity and compassion. Corrine would be so proud of you, Connor."

"I've been thinking about her today," Connor said. "She would have loved all this pomp and circumstance. I'm glad you came, Uncle Chase."

"I'm not the only one who's proud of you." Chase stepped back to reveal three more men waiting to congratulate him. Connor got bone-crushing handshakes from Tank, Lester and Bobby, along with some good-natured ribbing.

After several loud 'ahems,' Connor remembered his own buddies and turned to bring them forward. "Hey, everyone," Connor announced, "I'd like you to meet my friends." All eyes focused on the three young soldiers lined up next to Connor.

"I couldn't have gotten through the last fourteen weeks without them. Meet Émile Pierroux. We call him Frog. He's from Louisiana, down in Cajun country." Everyone nodded politely to the big black man who even towered over Tank. There was an obvious competitive sizing up between the older man and Frog. Frog broke eye contact first, looking away and running his large hand over his buzz cut. Though it was only noon, his jawline had a dark shadow, already in need of a shave. He nodded to the family group before him, but didn't speak.

Next in line was a much smaller black man with more of a swimmer's build. He also had a buzz cut. Connor introduced him. "This is William Bowen. He's from Chicago. We call him Arrow because he can hit the bull's-eye with any weapon, whether it be a rock, a M60 or a grenade launcher." The third friend spoke up, "And his last name's Bowen. Arrow. I mean, c'mon..."

Everyone chuckled and Connor punched the guy in the arm. "And last but not least is this guy, Ignacio Sanchez, or Chich. He's from LA, and watch out...he's got a mouth on him, if you couldn't tell." The last buddy was a good-looking Hispanic man about the same size as Connor and he sported a perpetual grin. "You get close to him at your own risk," Connor stated, waving his hand in front of his nose. "Chich lives on pork rinds or chicharrónes, hence his nickname."

Ranger stepped forward and shook each man's hand, as did the three older men. The eight men fired questions at each other, the older men asking details of the training, the young men asking and receiving advice.

Stephanie watched the interaction and silently compared the two sets of military men. She couldn't keep from grinning. Connor and his three new friends looked like carbon copies of Ranger and his men, albeit fifteen years younger. Connor seemed relaxed and happy. She was glad to see it. He was beginning his new life and it seemed it was off to a good start. But he also seemed appreciative that his family was still a part of it.

She hesitated to interrupt the men's camaraderie, but it was well after the noon hour and she knew Connor had to report in sometime for his next training assignment. She put thumb and forefinger in her mouth and blew a short piercing whistle.

"Time for lunch," she declared. "What's everyone hungry for?"

In unison, eight men shouted, "Ranger Burgers!"

At Stephanie's look of confusion, Ranger explained, "It's a rite of passage for new infantry graduates. I don't know how long it's been the tradition, but we did it when we graduated." Ranger shot a grin to Tank. He explained to Stephanie, Julie and Chase, "Recruits aren't allowed to leave the base until after they graduate, so they haven't been able to have any 'normal' food for months. And for the last couple of weeks they've been on bivouac and only had MREs to eat. Just the thought of a full one-pounder with all the trimmings will have most of them salivating." Ranger turned to the four new soldiers, "How 'bout Ranger burgers, fries, onion rings and double-thick milkshakes for everyone. My treat."

There was a collective "Hooah!" shouted out by all the men except Chase. He was the only one who hadn't served in the military and wasn't up on the lingo.

As the group turned to leave the parade ground, they were watched by a pair of meticulously shaded green eyes. Before she descended the bleacher steps, the woman adjusted her sunglasses and the large wide-brimmed hat she was wearing. No one noticed her, though she was quite striking in appearance with her hat, white gloves and pastel blue suit. She'd sat through the graduation, as she did every Infantry School graduation, picking out her next student. She hadn't expected to see him, let alone the rest of them. She'd been so shocked, she almost left early, but was glad she'd waited. She longingly stared at Ranger and then Tank, and then took note of the young man they were there for. Even from a distance, she could see the family resemblance. Must be a nephew. A smile formed as she took one last look at the close-knit group out on the parade grounds. Something to keep in mind, she mused, as she made her way to the parking lot and her classic candy-apple red '65 Mustang.

Lunch turned to dinner when Connor told them he and his buddies had to go across base and register for Airborne School before they could be released for the weekend. Ranger took everyone else into Columbus for lunch and a tour of the National Infantry Museum.

Dinner was loud and boisterous, and not just because of the four young men. The older men gave as good as they got. There was lots of laughter, joking around, and even some pranks pulled. Stephanie sat back and enjoyed watching her husband relax and joke around with his men and with Connor and his friends. He was normally so serious, but Steph saw him not only smiling but guffawing. Ranger guffawing. Who knew?

She was struck again at the striking similarities between Ranger and Connor. And not only in their physical appearance. She noticed how the Merry Men deferred to Ranger, even when they were just fooling around. The same dynamic was happening between Connor and his Army buddies. He was a natural leader and the guys seemed to gravitate to him and follow his lead. Now that Connor had shed his angry teen persona, she could see even more of Ranger's traits in him. He wasn't as quiet or as brooding as Ranger, but maybe that was something that developed over time. There was, however, one path of Ranger's that she did not want Connor to follow.

During a quiet moment, she leaned into Ranger and whispered in his ear. "Now that you know Connor's staying here in Georgia, don't you dare introduce him to Grace Galloway," Stephanie warned him.

Ranger folded Stephanie into his chest and kissed the top of her head. "He'll find his own Grace, just like I found mine." Steph raised her head, her eyes narrowing. He smiled at her. "That's you, Babe. _You_ are my saving grace."

 **FINALLY, THE END**

 _AN#2: Thank you for reading our little tale about Steph and Ranger's marriage. We also thank bgrgrmpy for finding all our elusive typos. This is the last story in this series. There will be no further sequels. There may be new stories, though._


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